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JOS6. 

BY 

/ 

OTTO RUPPIUS. 

M 

3^ 

FPiOlvl THE OEElvdl^lSr. 


EDITED BY 


LILLIE E. MYERS. 

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NEW YORK: 

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 

31 lio9e Street. 


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CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER. PAGE. 

Prologue. 7 

I — ^Joseph and Pepita 9 

II — An Interesting Adventure 16 

III — An Overland Expedition 30 

IV — Camping on the Plains 50 

V — A Discovery 65 

VI— Along the Arkansas 83 

VII — The Surprise 100 

VIII — A New Mexican Fort 107 

IX— A Strange Wooing 127 

X — The Escape 146 

XI — Saved and Sacrificed 160 

XII— Old Bob 166 

XIII — A Comanche Camp 176 

XIV — The Apaches 192 

XV — The Prairie-Devil 205 

XVI— Jose 218 

XVII— At the Fort 231 

XVIII — Explanations 246 

XIX — Their Journey’s End 258 

XX — A House of Mourning 271 

XXI— Love’s Joys and Sorrows 284 

XXII— Conclusion. 293 




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JOSJ& 


PROLOGUE. 

A warm, sultry, summer night rested upon the 
Mississippi Valley; the moon, enveloped in a fine 
mist, was as lifeless as though she was fast asleep 
under the enervating influence of the soft, still air. 

The forest landscape, like a silvery thread, 
stretched away in the distance and, in the East, 
dim gleams of lightning that rent the heavy clouds, 
gave warning of an approaching storm. 

A woman was rapidly pacing the highway from 
Big River to St. Louis. 

She had reached the eminence which commands 
a view of the valley, with its cultivated acres and 
isolated farm-houses, when she paused, turned, and 
sank upon her knees. She stretched out her hands 
toward the dwellings, beneath the rough shingles of 
which peace and prosperity seemed to dwell in 
happy harmony. Her lips were lightly compressed, 
and every lineament of her face expressed the bitter 
pangs of a tortured heart. Suddenly, she clasped 
her hands over her face, lowered her head, and 
^urst into a passionate torrent of tears aPd sobs, 


8 


JOSE. 


The paroxysm was of short duration and ^ 
suddenly as it came. The girl then rose abruptly, 
wiped her eyes, and pressed both hands to her 
bosom, as if determined to suppress her emotion. 

A strange apparition surely ; this youthful, beau- 
tiful creature, trembling beneath a great grief, in a 
country road at night, alone. 

A summer bonnet, fashioned of some light ma- 
terial, had fallen back upon her shoulders, revealing 
a mass of glossy, black hair and a dark face, the 
beauty of which was plainly visible by the light of 
the moon. Her simple dress, though fashioned like 
those of the good farmers’ wives of the neighbor- 
hood, was distinguished by a fantastic charm, all 
its own, which set off to advantage the singular 
grace of her person. 

Once more her large black eyes swept the valley 
below, then, as the first merry crow of a chanticleer 
was wafted up from one of the farms, the girl 
started to her feet, in alarm, put on her bonnet with 
a nervous gesture, turned her face in the direction 
of St. Louis, and pursued her way with hasty 
strides. 


JOSK 


9 


CHAPTER I. 

JOSEPH AND PEPITA. 

The Apple Farm was tenanted by a German 
family named Bottcher. 

They had struggled hard to clear the farm of its 
incumbrances, and were unable to do so till their 
son Joseph returned from California with a hand- 
some capital, which he had wrested from the mines 
by patient industry and hard work. 

Joseph did not return alone with his gold, but 
brought a beautiful, dark-skinned maiden, who was 
his bride. 

There was a romance attached to the wooing, but 
this the sturdy German parents failed to see, but 
their young daughter, who was about to be married 
to a young farmer, understood it all, and had at 
once clasped the Mexican girl in her arms with 
true sisterly affection. 

When Joseph was ill, and far away from friends 
and kindred, Pepita had taken care of him and 
saved his life, and became attached to him with all 
the impetuous warmth of her nature. Touched by 
her tender devotion, and from a characteristic 
German instinct of gratitude, the young man made 
her his wife. Snatched from bitter povertv by the 
timely return of their son, the parents did not ven- 
ture to object to Pepita’s presence openly, but they 
were sadly disappointed in Joseph s choice. 

Reared without restraint, or a proper sense of 
domestic propriety, the young wife flitted among 
the family of strict German notions as a filly does 


10 


josk 


in harness. It is true, that to please Joseph, Pepita 
adopted the fashions of those around her, and 
against her will had rolled up her long, thick braids, 
which were so becoming to her but excited too 
much attention, at the back of her head. 

The girl had succeeded in changing her outward 
appearance, but she had not been able, at will, to 
remold her nature. The love she bore her young 
husband had impelled her to practice all those 
virtues of domestic economy which adorn a frugal 
housewife, which are so essential on a farm, and in 
which she was so sadly remiss, but no employment 
had charms to confine her to the house longer than 
an hour. She would grow restless, leap to her feet, 
and seek the air. Her customary path led either to 
the woods, whence she would return after an ab- 
sence of hours, as happy as a child — and people said 
they had seen her sit in the grass, adorning her 
hair with wild fiowers and beguiling her work with 
a song which she trilled in a strange tongue— or she 
would run to the meadows where the two horses 
were grazing, chase and frighten the patient 
animals, lure them back to her with flattering 
words, stroke their nostrils, and then leap upon 
their backs without saddle or bridle ; ride the terror- 
ized nags through the gate at a wild gallop, right up 
to the edge of the woods, leap to the ground with a 
wild laugh, and drive them back into the inclosure 
with strange exclamations. 

J oseph fondly hoped that time would gradually 
subdue her fierce spirit; but when she began to 
furnish food for the gossip of the neighborhood; 
when father and mother shook their heads in silent 
grief, the young man resolved to make an earnest 
appeal to her, She burst into a passionate ht of 


JOSK 


11 


weeping, threw her arms around his neck, and fell 
at his feet, till Joseph was glad to compose her 
again. This marked a change in her life. She 
grew thoughtful and grave from this time on, and 
devoted herself unremittingly to her prescribed 
tasks. 

Winter succeeded a cold, cheerless autumn, con- 
fining indoors all, and none could escape the dis- 
comforts of the severe atmosphere, and Joseph 
’promised himself a favorable turn in his wife’s 
condition. But Pepita’s silence was that of the 
captive forest bird whose wings are clipped, which 
falls into the drawing-room, flutters with an attempt 
at gayety, pecks at the window panes and sadly 
hops back to its corner. As Pepita was in delicate 
health, Joseph ascribed her depressed feelings to 
this condition, and flattered himself with the de- 
cision that the instincts of maternity would event- 
ually curb the old intractable spirit that dwelt 
within her ; but with each recurring day the roses 
on the dusky cheeks of the young wife grew paler 
and paler ; for hours she would sit at the window 
peering into the foggy atmosphere ; like a broken 
reed she would respond to the call of some light 
duty ; and now Joseph’s smooth brow began to grow 
darker and darker. 

When he spoke to her in words of encouragement, 
she would say: “Am I not obeying you?” or else 
she would cast herself on his breast and weep 
scalding tears, that seemed to give her no relief. 

Thus the winter drew to a close, and with the 
increasing traces of sorrow that marked Joseph’s 
face, the gloom that had settled upon the household 
grew more oppressive. One day in early spring, 
when all outdoor naturp whispered of new birth, th^ 


12 


JOSE. 


inmates of Apple Farm moved back and forth from 
room to room, silently and in anxious expectation, 
for Pepita was very ill. But alas! all poor Joseph’s 
bright anticipations were doomed to disappoint- 
ment, and he was very unhappy. 

The young wife recovered slowly, and when she 
was again able to stir about, they suffered her to 
do as she pleased. On the first warm day, Joseph, 
himself, led Pepita forth into the woods and gath- 
ered the sweet spring flowers for her. The warm- 
hearted, impulsive creature embraced her husband, 
and said : 

“Jose, I intended to make you so happy, but 
I have failed. Oh, that we were back in Cali- 
fornia, where I could watch over you, die for you if 
necessary ; where no one spies upon the steps of the 
Mexican girl who adores you!” 

These words seemed to express the feelings that 
thenceforth dominated her. 

No one interfered with her in any way, and when 
she chose to keep at some domestic work, she was 
permitted to do so. If she remained absent from 
the house half a day at a time, she met no inquir- 
ing looks nor censuring remarks when she re- 
turned ; but upon each countenance there was 
stamped an expression of painful resignation. 

Since her daughter’s marriage. Mother Bottcher 
did the household work alone, despite the increasing 
hardship of her advancing age. 

J oseph seemed to redouble his energy in an effort 
to create relief wherever possible. 

No one ever discussed the domestic affairs of the 
family, and things might have gone on in the even 
tenor of their way had not another German, hailing 
from the same neighborhood in the old country as 


Jose. 


13 


the Bottchers, settled near them. The new-comer 
had two daughters, pictures of sturdy robust woman- 
hood, and they had frequently called at the Apple 
Farm for advice and assistance. Joseph had twice 
gone home with them to render some neighborly 
help ; and so it transpired that as Pepita was one 
afternoon returning from one of her customary 
rambles, and was accidentally passing an outbuild- 
ing, she heard the elder Bottcher’s voice : 

“It is a sorry lot for us, wife,” she heard him say; 
“and what will it all end in? In your old age you 
are working harder than ever, while you should 
long ago have surrendered your place to some 
sturdy daughter-in-law. Joseph’s face grows thin- 
ner and paler, though he keeps his troubles to him- 
self, and I haven’t the heart to speak to him about 
it. But what will it all lead to? Now there are the 
two Vogel girls. Ah! what a wife one of them 
would have been for Joseph I He seems to realize 
his condition more fully since their arrival. I can 
tell by the way he eyes the elder ; but it is of no use 
now ! What will be the end when you can go on no 
longer?” 

“God is wise,” replied the wife; “and shapes all 
things for a purpose ; therefore speak not of it, that 
our hearts may not grow sadder still ; but bear the 
inevitable as I do!” 

Pepita stood still and listened to the conversation 
with large, staring eyes, as if some strange thoughts 
and visions were passing through her mind; and 
then she cowered down in the grass, pressed her 
face into her hands, and so remained, silent and 
motionless as the tree trunks all around her. 

She did not enter the house until the sun was 
going down, her face paler than usual, though no 


14 


JOSA 


one observed it. Her absence from the supper table 
excited no comment. She had gone to her own 
apartment, and when Joseph silently entered soon 
after sundown, lamp in hand, Pepita raised slowly 
and said : 

“Jose, I am ill. I have been dreaming of Cali- 
fornia again. I have a great desire to see some 
gold. Will you not give me a few pieces? I truly 
believe tney would make me feel better.” 

The young man crossed silently over to a large 
wooden chest, that stood in the corner of the room, 
raised the lid, and took out five ten-dollar gold 
pieces, and handed them to his young wife with the 
air that one humors a sick child. Pepita drew his 
hand toward her, gazed at the sparkling metal, and 
then closed her fingers over the money. 

“Now, Jose,” she said, “give me a kiss,” and as 
he bent his head over her, she embraced him with 
fervid energy, kissed him repeatedly, and then 
leaned back upon her pillow. 

A look of resignation rested upon Joseph’s face as 
he extinguished the light and retired. 

When at early day -break he awoke, after a night’s 
refreshing sleep that caused him to forget his 
weariness and cares, Pepita’s place was unoccupied. 

Her early rising would have excited no surprise, 
accustomed as he was to his wife’s eccentric habits 
in all things, had the morning been pleasant, but it 
was raining. Field and forest were clothed in a 
light fog, and presented no charms for outdoor exer- 
cise. 

Joseph leaped from his couch, and dressed with 
nervous haste. 

As he looked for his hat, a little white piece of 
paper, which was pinned upon it, met his eye. 


A strange premonition possessed him as he seized 
it, and recognized at once Pepita’s awkward chi- 
rography, which he had often laughed at in happy 
days gone by. The young man’s face was very 
grave now as he read the words that were written 
in Spanish, a slight knowledge of which he had. 

“Be happy again, Joseph, thou and thy parents, 
and forgive me for the harm I have done you. I 
am going whence I came. Farewell a thousand 
times, and forget thy weeping: 

“ Pepita.” 

Joseph glanced quickly about the room. Not an 
article of his wife’s daily attire remained. 

With conflicting emotions he rushed down stairs, 
determined to pursue her. 

Now that Pepita was really gone, all her faults 
appeared in a milder light to Joseph, and a feeling 
of supreme pity and love mastered him. 

When he told his father and mother what had 
transpired, and announced his determination to 
follow and bring* his wife back, the former placed 
his hand upon his son’s shoulder and said: 

“Do as you will, Joseph, but ask yourself if this 
fugitive from the forest can ever be domesticated 
between the four walls of a civilized household. She 
has realized what is best for her, as well as for you, 
and there is for your aged parents to enjoy a happi- 
ness of which they had long despaired.” 

Joseph left his horse unsaddled. 


16 


JOSE. 


CHAPTER II. 

AN INTERESTING ADVENTURE. 

The Jackson and Vicksburg train had not arrived; 
that was the topic of ail absorbing interest at every 
station along the short line. Under the broad piazza 
of the hotel at Dixon’s, which commanded a full 
view of the railway track, sat a numerous group of 
people, indulging in ten different theories in regard 
to the lateness of the train, criticising the solidity 
of culverts and trestles, whittling chips of wood, and 
spitting tobacco juice. 

Not far from the portico, in the shade of a wide- 
spreading elm tree, a young man had seated him- 
self. comfortably, and was blowing blue clouds of 
smoke into the air from his cigar. A broad-rimmed 
Panama shaded a face framed in a dark, soft, full 
beard, that offered a striking contrast to the smooth- 
shaven faces of the group under the portico. His 
genial appearance and soft white hands justified 
the conclusion that he belonged to the fashionable 
circles of society. And this surmise was well 
founded, at least in one direction. The gentleman 
was none other than Henry Baumann, first clerk 
of the firm of Flister, Becher, & Co., one of the 
largest European fur houses, which had commis- 
sioned him to study this branch of trade in the 
United States, and, if possible, to open new and 
more direct business connections. Henry had se- 
cured letters in New York and Boston to the North- 
western fur stations, then had drifted into Missouri, 
and had there witnessed extensive arrangements 


JOSA 


17 


for a large overland expedition to New Mexico and 
Chihuahua. His letters had quickly introduced him 
to the projectors of the enterprise, and his desire to 
neglect no opportunity to see the country and make 
the acquaintance of the people, had induced him to 
become one of a party that had gone to Mississippi 
to buy a herd of mules for the expedition. We find 
him waiting for the train which was to take him to 
Vicksburg, thence to continue his journey up the 
river. 

Somewhat impatient, he had just thrown away 
the end of his cigar, risen to his feet to stretch his 
limbs, when he observed a light carriage, drawn by 
a single horse, turn the corner of the nearest clump 
of bushes that skirted the road leading to the depot. 
The colored boy who acted as driver halted the con- 
veyance near the hotel, and a lady attired in a light 
traveling suit stepped out. She made a swift survey 
of her surroundings, and was in the act of taking 
the direction of the town, while the conveyance 
rolled back over the road it had come, when her eye 
caught a glimpse of the young German. For a 
moment she paused irresolutely, then she walked 
directly to him. 

I appeal to you, sir, to permit me to take your 
arm,” she said, hastily, stretching forth a small, 
white hand, while with the other she raised the 
vail that half concealed her face ; “ and I beg you 
not to act surprised. We are doubtless observed 
from the hotel, and I must excite no attention. Let 
me take your arm ; we will stroll through the town, 
and I will explain everything as we walk.” 

In his surprise, which he had not been quite able 
to subdue despite the admonition, Baumann gazed 
into a face which he had once before seen in the 


18 


JOSE. 


course of his American journey, a face so replete 
with feminine loveliness, so expressive of senti- 
mental and charming grace that he had not been 
able to banish it from his memory for a week. He 
had sat opposite this face at a concert in Boston and 
expressed his admiration, without being able to 
obtain any further information concerning it from 
any of his newly-acquired friends. In a state of 
mental perturbation, such as he had never before 
experienced, he now took her hand, placed it upon 
his arm, and proceeded in the direction she had in- 
dicated, without being able to account to himself 
how it all happened. 

“You are not an American, sir. I have seen you 
somewhere and was told you were not,” she began, 
when they had passed the hotel. “You appeared to 
me like a beacon in the hour of distress, here, where 
I dare not confide in any one. I will explain in a 
few words.” 

At this moment a long, shrill whistle sounded in 
the distance, and she suddenly paused and stood 
motionless, as if struck by an electric shock. 

“ Merciful heavens, that is the train, and I hoped 
it would not arrive before dusk! Oh, sir,” she con- 
tinued, seizing his arm in a nervous way ; “ do not 
desert me now. I must confront the enemy or I 
shall be lost. Call yourself my brother. My name 
is Mary. What is your name, sir? your name!” she 
added, in a state of excitement which threatened to 
communicate itself to the young man. 

“ My name is Henry Baumann, madam ; but I beg 
you to be calm lest you betray yourself. Tell me in 
brief what you expect me to do, for I see the smoke 
of the locomotive.” 

“Nothing, sir, except that you represent yourself 


josk 


19 


to be my brother, and that we are on our way to 
St. Louis. 1 have accompanied you to this point 
from Vicksburg, and you have had business here.” 

He simply nodded his assent, and was about to 
clasp her arm more firmly in his, when, casting a 
quick glance over the deserted surroundings, she 
suddenly snached her bonnet from her head, tore 
off the vail, and cast the first into a corn-field ad- 
jacent to the road, tying the latter around her face 
and hair. 

“I shall be less likely to be recognized thus,” she 
said, returning to his side; “and now away!” 

The long-expected train was just steaming up to 
the hotel, which was discharging a dense group of 
curiosity-seekers, who surrounded the engineer and 
conductor to learn the cause of the delay. 

The young lady at Baumann’s side walked firmly 
and quickly toward one of the coaches and entered, 
but the young man could distinctly feel her arm 
tremble in his. Without looking to either side, she 
preceded him to a vacant seat, and as she turned 
her head to look at him he almost started at the 
ghostly pallor of her face and the singular expres- 
sion of terror in her eyes. 

“ The train will no doubt stop here a few minutes ; 
“go quickly and secure tickets to evade suspicion,” 
she said, hastily, and in a compressed voice; “ I hope 
to escape unobserved, while you are gone.” 

She drew the vail down over her face and cowered 
into a corner of the seat, while Baumann hastened 
to add another ticket to his own, feeling as if it 
were all a dream. 

The group of idlers was still gathered at the side 
of the locomotive, evidently listening with con- 
siderable interest to the recital of some one in their 


20 


JOSE. 


midst. The young man, however, cast scarcely a 
glance in that direction, and quickly returned to his 
companion in the car. 

“I have the tickets,” he said, seating himself by 
the side of his protegee \ and immediately after the 
conductor exclaimed : 

“All aboard!” 

The girl half started to her feet as if stung by an 
adder. Then she drew the folds of her vail more 
closely about her face and reclined her head upon 
her hand, with a simulated air of weariness. 

Baumann felt that the expected moment of danger 
was at hand ; he also saw that she could not long 
remain in her present position without betraying the 
strained character of the same. 

“Trust me implicitly,” he whispered. 

She made no reply, but he saw the slight tremor 
of her graceful and delicate form, and experienced 
a strange nervous sensation himself. 

The locomotive began to gather speed, and at this 
juncture the conductor entered the car. 

He cast a glance over the passengers, and his gaze 
fastened upon the new arrivals. He seemed to study 
every detail of their appearance, and then passed 
out at the opposite door. 

This action warned Baumann to be prepared for 
future developments, and for the first time he began 
to reflect upon his own peculiar situation, which he 
could neither estimate nor weigh in any direction, 
since he had no idea why the lady at his side appre- 
hended pursuit and no means of knowing into what 
a predicament his ready assent to her plans might 
precipitate him. But coupled with this reflection 
was the image of her face, those features that 
seemed to mirror forth every sentiment of her soul, 


JOSK 


21 


which had impressed him so permanently the first 
brief glimpse he had of them in Boston ; and he felt 
almost ashamed of his momentary attack of weak- 
ness. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of 
a tall, broad-shouldered planter, who passed through 
the car, evidently for the avowed purpose of sub- 
jecting the passengers from Dixon’s to an imperti- 
nent scrutiny. Baumann raised his head as soon as 
he observed it, and met the planter’s gaze with a 
cold look, which, however, did not seem to discon- 
cert the other, who leisurely continued his walk 
through the car, and on his return alternately bent 
down to one and then the other of the passengers, 
exchanging a few whispered words here and there, 
until soon the young man saw himself and his com- 
panion the involuntary target of furtive looks from 
all directions. 

Despite her vail, his neighbor seemed to have 
taken in every stage of the proceedings, for she 
slowly raised in her seat and half unvailed her face. 

“I fear that all my precautions and my disguise 
will only serve to make matters worse for you,” she 
said, just loud enough to be heard by her companion 
above the clatter of the train. 

Baumann, observing the painful expression of 
alarm that had settled upon her face as she uttered 
these words, suddenly felt himself equal, to any 
emergency that might arise, to defend her. 

“ Compose yourself . Am I not your brother?” he 
said, eagerly, stretching out his hand toward her; 
‘‘and who will question this assertion?” 

She cast a quick glance at the door by which the 
conductor was just entering, and then seized Bau- 
mann’s hand with a pressure that went straight to 


22 


JOSE. 


his heart. Dropping the vail again over her face, 
she leaned back in the corner of the seat. 

“Tickets, sir!” cried the conductor, approaching 
the seat. 

Baumann negligently drew forth his billets. 
The official examined them and thrust them 
into his pocket, without, however, taking his eye 
from the two passengers. 

“Anything else, sir?” asked Baumann, in a loud 
voice, and looking up with a frown. “It seems that 
my sister and I are classed among the curiosities of 
the country, or is it customary to treat all strangers 
in this manner?” 

Every eye in the car turned toward the speaker, 
who had purposely raised his voice in order to be 
heard, and for a moment the conductor hesitated. 
Then he bent his head forward toward the young 
man, and with a peculiar smile, said : 

“You will pardon a question which circumstances 
warrant me in asking. According to your tickets, 
you and this lady came from Dixon’s. Did you have 
any baggage checked there?” 

“Certainly,” said Baumann, producing two bag- 
gage checks ; “ one trunk and a valise ; but why do 
you ask?” 

The conductor examined the checks, and then re- 
turned them. 

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said; “there must be 
a mistake in the persons, doubtless owing to your 
beard, which is uncommon, and especially the lady’s 
gray dress.” 

As if still unable to dismiss the illusion, he sub- 
jected the couple to another critical inspection, and 
then passed through the car, replying to a number 


JOSE. 


23 


of interrogative looks of the remaining passengers 
with a shake of the head. 

“ I regard this manner of treating strangers most 
impertinent!” said Baumann, addressing the occu- 
pant of a seat near by, in the hope of receiving an 
explanation of the mystery surrounding the ad- 
venture ; but the stranger made no reply. He saw 
the passengers thrust their heads together and 
whisper one to another, and Baumann concluded 
to await developments, which he knew must surely 
reach their climax upon their arrival at Vicksburg. 

The lady sat motionless, with her head reclining in 
the corner of the seat, feigning sleep. He felt in no 
humor to exact liberties not positively warranted 
by circumstances, and leaning his head upon his 
hand, abandoned himself to the emotions which the 
incidents of his strange adventure had excited. 
Once during the hour consumed by the journey to 
Vicksburg, his companion asked for water. A soft 
flush suffused her face as she raised her vail, and 
Baumann saw a smile that would have repaid him 
a hundred-fold, but for a touch of sadness in her 
face which almost seemed like a new mystery. 

At last the train pulled into the depot, the passen- 
gers stepped off, and the couple reached the plat- 
form unmolested, in the midst of the crowd. A 
shudder seemed to pass over the young lady’s frame, 
and Baumann felt her hand fasten upon his arm. 
He paused. 

“Shall I call a carriage?” he asked, alarmed at 
her condition. 

“Not here! Let us hasten away from the depot 
before we attract attention,” she urged, and the 
young man followed the tide of foot-passengers 
gravitating in the direction of the city, clasping 


24 


JOSK 


her arm firmly in his to support her steps, but she 
soon released it from his pressure. 

“It was a mere weakness,” she said, in a low 
tone; “all the excitement of the ride seemed to 
react upon my nerves at once, but I am strong 
now !” 

“Will you indicate some place to which you desire 
me to conduct you?” he said, having now reached 
the business portion of the city. “ Going South, I 
was in Vicksburg a few hours only, and know 
very little of it. 

She remained silent, as if undecided what to say. 

“ I do not know whether I have the right to pre- 
sume any longer upon your assistance, as I have 
doubtless alr^^ady caused you to neglect your 
affairs,” she said, slowly; “I expect friends to meet 
me here ; until I find them I shall be alone, and pos- 
sibly be again exposed to the suspicion which your 
presence alone averted.” 

“ I am happy to offer you my assistance as long as 
you please to claim it,” Baumann quickly inter- 
rupted ; “ I only asked to learn your wishes. Dis- 
pose of me as you would of your real brother.” 

“I thank you, sir,” she said, and Baumann half 
fancied feeling her hand close upon his arm with a 
slight pressure. “ Let us go to the leading hotel in 
the city, where I shall be most likely to find my 
friends.” 

Baumann spoke to the first well-dressed pedes- 
trian, and received the desired directions. They 
reached the hotel after a short walk, where he 
registered as “H. Baumann and sister,” and then 
conducted her to the door of her room. 

“You’ll look after the baggage and return soon, 


JOSE. 25 

Henry?” she said, offering him her hand with a 
blush. 

This bit of comedy was enacted for the benefit of 
the colored chambermaid who had followed them; 
yet it required great presence of mind for the young 
jnan to husband his mental faculties under the in- 
fluence of her tenderly confiding voice. Baumann 
ran down stairs and left the hotel without knowing 
what he was doing, for in his soul there was mir- 
rored this strange girTs image, as he stood for a 
moment holding her hand under the irresistible im- 
pulse of his emotions, her cheeks flushed and her 
eyes cast down in faint embarrassment, such as he 
himself had felt. He would fain have closed his 
eyes, to let the whole scene pass again in review 
before his mind ; but just before him was the depot, 
and not until now it occurred to him that he could 
as well have sent the porter for his baggage. But 
having gone thus far, he hired a man to carry his 
effects to the hotel, and then started to return. Un- 
consciously, Baumann struck a pace on his way to 
the hotel that fairly made his companion cough 
with exertion, for he felt that he was at last ap- 
proaching the solution of his mysterious adventure. 

He had barely entered the office and checked his 
baggage, when the clerk handed him a sealed en- 
velope, which he was not a little surprised to dis- 
cover bore his exact address, traced in a graceful 
hand. At the same time a strange premonition 
seized him; he tore the envelope, and with bated 
breath read the following lines, hurriedly written 
with a lead pencil : 

“ A moment ago one of my friends arrived ; cir- 
cumstances demand my immediate departure. I 
trust Mr. Baumann will not be offended at my 


26 


JOSE. 


necessarily unceremonious farewell, but rest assured 
of the grateful remembrance of 

“His Sister.” 

The young man stood for quite a while as if 
dazed ; then he suddenly turned to the clerk and 
asked : 

“How long ago was this note left in your care?” 

“Scarcely five minutes,” was the reply. 

“ And the lady left the hotel in the care of an 
escort?” 

Possibly Baumann’s face betrayed more than he 
was conscious of ; for the clerk, after a brief silence, 
stepped from behind the counter with an intelligent 
air, and said in a subdued tone : 

“You had scarcely left the hotel when a gentle- 
man entered, dashed off some lines on a piece of 
paper, and asked me to send it ‘to the lady who had 
just arrived,’ The boy returned with a request to 
have the stranger come to her room, and in about 
fifteen minutes both came down together. The lady 
inclosed a note, already prepared, in an envelope 
and told me to hand it to you as soon as you re- 
turned.” 

Baumann thought a moment. 

“Show me the way to the river,” he said. 

“Straight down there,” directed the clerk. 

The young man nodded. It was contrary to the 
direction he had gone before. Without saying a 
word he started for the river. If she intended to 
leave the city with her companion, it must be by a 
Mississippi steamer. He himself did not know what 
he could possibly accomplish by his pursuit, but felt 
that he could not part from her in this manner. 
She had opened a new world to him, entirely differ- 
ent from anything he had ever before experienced ; 


JOSE. 


27 


and try as he might, he could not shake off the 
desire to look again into her face, again to hold her 
small white hand in his own. Beyond this he had 
no thoughts, and so he paced rapidly down the 
street, scanning every lady whose form could re- 
motely remind him of hers. 

The levy was a scene of active commotion, but a 
quick glance over the great mass of draymen and 
colored deck-hands, engaged in loading and un- 
loading steamboats, convinced him that it was use- 
less to tarry here. He inquired for the first steamers 
to depart, and moved in the direction of the first 
that was pointed out to him. He passed through 
the handsome saloon of the vessel, leaving no face 
unscrutinized, but to no avail. He extended his 
search to the second, the third and the fourth boats, 
and would have been borne down the Mississippi to 
New Orleans on the fifth, had not a bold leap carried 
him ashore just as the boat was backing from the 
wharf — but he had nowhere discovered a trace that 
would have justified the indulgence of a hope. 
Slowly, and with a feeling of utter desolation, such 
as he had never felt before, he at last turned to go. 
According to his original programme, he should 
have taken the first steamer for St. Louis ; but now 
he felt that in leaving Vicksburg he was giving up 
one of the fondest anticipations of his life. 

It was dusk by the time he reached the hotel, and 
he was in the act of taking a chair and withdrawing 
to one corner of the veranda, and there abandoning 
himself to the undisturbed fiow of his thoughts, 
when the clerk called him and with a significant 
gesture, pointed to a second letter, which he held in 
his hand. 

“Delivered fifteen minutes ago,” he said. 


28 


JOSK 


Baumann at once recognized the handwriting as 
the same in which the first letter had been ad- 
dressed. In eager expectancy he tore open the 
envelope and his eye flew over the contents ; then 
he sadly lowered his head, took the chair accord- 
ing to his original intention, and once more glanced 
over the letter. It read : 

“ Dear Friend : — For so J may surely call you after 
such evidences of your kindness — I cannot take my 
departure without again thanking you for your gen- 
erous conduct ; rest assured that your efforts were 
exercised in a good cause. Do not doubt it, though 
I dare not yet enter circumstantially into the case, 
for we are not yet out of danger. 

“You were not satisfied with my first note of fare- 
well, you sought to find me again ; but though it 
gratified my heart, I felt pained by the consciousness 
that I dared not confront your searching gaze. I 
may tell you this in all candor, since according to 
all human calculations, we shall never meet again. 
If you will preserve a friendly recollection of the 
few hours in which you protected a defenseless girl 
from her enemies, you will have rendered happy for 
all times, Yours gratefully, 

“Mary Brown.” 

“Posted on departure of the boat.” 

Baumann gazed thoughtfully before him. So, 
after all, she had been aboard one of the vessels in 
which he had sought her; she had seen him and 
guessed his intentions. He buried his face in his 
hands for fully a minute. 

“It was, then, only an adventure, which ends 
here,” he said, at last, rising to his feet. “Many, no 
doubt, would call it a most interesting adventure — 
had it not happened to me in person and so absorbed 
my interest that I shall never be able to forget it!” 

He looked again at the letter. 


JOSK 


29 


, “How many Browns are there in the United 
States, and even Mary Browns, for that matter?” 
he continued, with a sorry shake of the head; 
then he pressed the name against his lips, folded 
the paper, and placed it in his pocketbook. With 
a half suppressed sigh he straightened up and 
entered the office. 

“When does the next boat leave for up the river?” 
he asked. 

“In an hour — the Telegraph, bound for St. Louis,” 
was the reply. “ By taking supper now, you will 
have ample time to take the ’bus.” 

Baumann followed the direction of the hand 
pointing to the dining-room, although he had no 
appetite, and in an hour was aboard the steamer 
sturdily plowing its way up stream, once more on 
his way to rejoin the companions of his west-bound 
journey. 


30 


josk 


CHAPTER III. 

AN OVERLAND EXPEDITION. 

It was a strange feeling that rested upon the 
young German on his return to St. Louis. His busi- 
ness was ended, and he could have leisurely set out 
for the East and thence embarked for Europe ; but 
when he thought of resuming his duties in the office 
of his hum-drum life and its eternal routine; the 
strict domestic regulations that governed his habits 
in the house of the senior member of the firm, which 
had been his home since his earliest connection 
with the house, he was assailed by a repugnance 
which he sought in vain to overcome. Yet he had 
always been a pattern of industry and trustworthi- 
ness ; the interests of his house had been the sole 
object of his ambition, the position he had gradually 
attained and the implicit confidence of his employer, 
which he had by small degrees succeeded in win- 
ning, had constituted his sole pride. There were 
moments when this contrast between the past and 
the present came lucidly before his -eyes ; on such 
occasions he would press his hand against his brow 
and murmur : 

“ I am ill. I can never go home in this state !” 

He would interrogate himself what had so changed 
his thoughts and inclinations, and experience a 
vague dissatisfaction that formed a glaring contrast 
to the firm direction of his former motives a feel- 

ing he could neither define nor remedy. Many 
times he thought of his adventure and his mysteri- 
ous protegee — the first three nights aboard the vessel 


JOSK 


31 


they had persistently woven themselves into his 
dreams — but he had said to himself that this attacJi- 
ment for an apparition that had entered his life 
under circumstances so romantic could lead to no 
good, and under this conviction had struggled 
heroically to banish all idle recollections of that 
event from his mind. More than this ; he had finally 
buried the letters, which he had daily read and read 
again, during his tedious journey up the Mississippi, 
in the depths of his trunk, and fiattered himself on 
stepping ashore at St. Louis, that he had effectually 
conquered that extravagance of his heart. He 
would have sworn that it was not that for which 
he was in vain seeking a cause and a remedy. 

One afternoon, in order to escape from his own 
dissatisfied state of mind, he went in the direction 
of the office of the business house that was inter- 
ested in the expedition to New Mexico, where he 
had been received, on his first arrival in St. Louis, 
with all the polite attention peculiar to Americans. 
Since his late return he had deferred his visit from 
day to day. He had barely entered the office when 
the younger partner of the firm sprang from his 
stool, heartily shook his hand, and exclaimed : 

“You are the man I most wished to see! Our 
mules have all arrived, our goods are here and our 
wagons are ready. We expect to leave next week. 
I have been selected to accompany the train, and 
all I want now is a companion who is prepared to 
sacrifice some time and is not afraid of a scrimmage 
or two with the redskins, if it should be forced upon 
us. You were in my mind when you entered. I’ll 
furnish a good horse and the outfit,” he added, 
seeing Baumann’s face showing a sudden anima- 
tion. “ We sha’n’t reach the real fur regions, but on 


32 


JOSK 


the other hand it will be an interesting trip for you 
in other respects. What do you say, sir?” 

Baurucinn gazed for a moment at the speaker’s 
face in silence. Pictures of nature in its savage 
state, of dangers and adventures suddenly passed 
before his mental vision ; and it almost seemed that 
it was this for which he longed as the remedy, for 
the desolation that pervaded his breast. His busi- 
ness was ended ; he had merely delayed his final 
report, because it would include the announcement 
of his return home ; no one could now object to his 
taking advantage of an opportunity to make a 
journey such as, in all its peculiarities, would never 
be offered him a second time. He knew that the 
elder Flister would grumble something about “the 
spirit of American independence,” which he be- 
lieved Baumann least of all would ever acquire; 
but he also knew that he would dismiss the matter 
there with a shake of the head. He raised his hand 
slowly, and held it out to the other. 

“I accept your proposition gratefully, without 
hesitation, Mr. Green,” he said; “it meets my own 
wishes so admirably that I can offer no objections. 
Let me send my letter to Europe, and then dispose 
of me.” 

“I knew I could count upon you when you so 
opportunely entered the office,” said Green, in a 
transport of delight, bringing his own hand down 
with a hearty smack in Baumann’s extended right. 
“ This lends an entirely new aspect to our expedition, 
so far as I am concerned ; and if you have nothing 
to do at present we will go at once and inspect our 
rifles, just arrived from New York. There are some 
excellent barrels among them, and by making our- 


JOS± 


33 


selves familiar with them now, we shall be able to 
use them in case of emergency.” 

He seized his hat in evident delight, and conducted 
his companion to the large warehouse in the rear of 
the building. 

* * sic s!c * j(: 

People said that times were rather dull at Inde- 
pendence, near the Missouri River, yet to a stranger 
the place seemed a theater of bustling energy com- 
pared with many a larger city. 

Independence is the harbor of the great Western 
prairie sea, and at the time of our story it was the 
only place from which the great trading expeditions 
embarked. Any one familiar with the drift and 
tide of sailors of all nations, immigrants and mer- 
chants in a large seaport, is confronted with similar 
scenes at this nort. The Mexican muleteers, and 
American and German freighters, may well be called 
the sailors of the plains, their rough outward ap- 
pearance having much in common with the mari- 
ners of the sea; while the commotion created by all 
other classes of people concentrating here, presents 
an aspect not at all unlike that witnessed at any 
other embarking point. 

But the real business activity for the present year 
was over. The California-bound trains, intent on 
having the great plains behind them before winter 
set in, had long departed. Preparations for the 
trains destined for the Santa Fe trail, alone en- 
livened the place at this time. 

Near a large, fenced-in square, inclosing a vrhole 
park of heavy freight wagons, in the immediate 
neighborhood of one of the countless lodging and 
drinking houses of the place, a group of rough char- 
acters belonging to a Western freighting expedition 


34 


JOSE. 


had formed a wide circle; and, judging by the 
occasional outbursts of laughter and loud shouts, 
was hugely enjoying some novel spectacle. In the 
open center of the circle a sturdy freighter was 
waging a heroic contest with a small refractory 
mule of the most graceful proportions, but of a stub- 
born spirit, in the fruitless effort to adjust a bit and 
bridle, the crowd lustily cheering every successful 
attempt of the intolerable brute to evade captivity. 

“D the beast ! He's got the devil in him !” ex- 

claimed the freighter, in wretched English, dealing 
the animal a cut with the bridle that caused him to 
launch out his heels in every direction, and only 
restrained by a lasso that threatened to cut off his 
wind. 

The fruitless efforts of the mule tamer had at • 
tracted the attention of a young beardless fellow 
who lay extended on the landing of a wooden stair- 
way along the outside wall of the lodging-house. 
The youth wore a soft felt hat jauntily pressed upon 
his short-cropped, black hair, and had been watch- 
ing the proceedings with evident interest. The 
freighter, irritated by the jeers of the crowd, 
momentarily desisted, and looking up, exclaimed : 

“If there's a Yankee or an Irishman in the crowd 
who thinks he can handle the brute, I wish he'd 
step forward. Anybody can laugh, and I reckon 
Dutch Bill knows his business as well as the next 
man.” 

“He must be a Mormon!” exclaimed a voice in 
the crowd, and the remark was greeted with a gen- 
eral shout of laughter. 

“I reckon so!” answered the first speaker, push- 
ing his broad hat back from his weather-beaten 
face, its morose expression gradually relaxing into 


JOSE. 


35 


a faint smile; “but I’ll make him bend his neck 
before I leave the place !” 

He was turning his head to look for the stubborn 
animal, his mind evidently occupied with a fresh 
design to curb its spirit, when the young man above 
referred to reached the foot of the stairs, pressed 
his way through the circle and advanced in a 
straight line toward the mule. 

“Let me try,” he said, reaching for the lasso, and 
“Dutch Bill” gazed into a pair of large, black eyes 
expressing a degree of determination hardly com- 
patible with the apparent age of the young stranger. 

For a moment the freighter seemed surprised; 
then he scanned the slender form of the youth and 
a half -satirical, half-pitying smile settled about his 
large mouth. 

“You expect to break this Mormon, do you? All 
right, my boy, try it; but look out that he doesn’t 
box your ears.” 

Bill closed one eye and swept the crowd of specta- 
tors wtih a look that was intended to challenge 
their approval, while the stranger advanced straight 
toward the excited and trembling animal, tenderly 
patted his neck, and gazed steadily into his eyes. 
Then he began to speak to him in a soft, melodious 
voice, and to scratch his ears, opening his mouth 
and stroking his nose. Dutch Bill craned his neok 
when the boy began to speak. 

^‘Mina — mina honita,^^ he repeated. “Oh, I see; it’s 
one of them Mexicans. All sugar and honey, and 
when you ain’t alookin’ they’re worse than a Mor- 
mon. There! if he hasn’t done it!” he added, half 
protestingly yet in good humor as the animal, hav- 
ing submitted to the other’s flattery, suffered him- 
self to be bridled and the crowd again burst out into 


36 


JOSK 


loud laughter. “I suppose you think now you’ve 
shown Dutch Bill a trick he didn’t know before?” 
he said, turning to the boy as the latter placed the 
bridle in his hand. 

“You are wrong. I wanted an opportunity to 
speak with you and to show you first that I could 
handle horses and mules !” 

The look which the freighter encountered was the 
same earnest, almost serious expression that had 
impressed him before, and which now drove away 
the last trace of ill nature in the old fellow’s face. 
“You’re a curious little chap. I hope there’s no 
Mormon or something worse in you. Come along 
and talk as much as you like,” he said, turning and 
leading the animal by the lasso and bridle toward 
the wagon park, and replying to the jeering re- 
marks of the bystanders with a comical shake of 
the head. “You see this beast is the most stubborn 
little cuss in the whole drove, pretty as he is,” he 
continued, directing his remarks to the young man ; 
“and I made a bet I’d bring him to time. I suppose 
you’re a Mexican?” 

“Yes, from the border, and I should like to join 
the train to return home.” 

“Oho! What brought you here and what have 
you been doing since you arrived?” 

“ I worked on a farm near St. Louis — I thought I 
could earn some money there,” was the reply. The 
young man for a moment raised his eyes ; but he 
lowered them quickly as they encountered the 
searching look of the freighter. 

“That’s a queer idea! You don’t seem to have 
worked hard,” he remarked, scanning the soft, 
shapely hands and feet of the other; “but that’s 
nothing to me. I’ll just take this converted Mormon 


JOSE. 37 

to his brothers and then you can tell me what you 
want.” 

He opened the gate of the rear portion of the 
stockade, filled with nearly three hundred loose 
mules ; relieved the captive animal of its lasso and 
halter, and with a slap on the back sent it to join its 
fellows. 

“How, then, what is it?” he asked, tipping his hat 
upon his right ear. 

“Nothing except that I wish you to secure me 
employment with the train and allow me to be with 
you on your trip across the plains.” 

“Oho!” replied the freighter, slowly returning 
over the road to the lodging-house. “Well, my boy, 
I may just as well tell you now that I’ve nothing to 
do with the hiring ” 

“ But you are Dutch Bill, and a word from you to 
the wagon-boss will do more than a recommenda- 
tion from the owner himself!” exclaimed the boy, 
eagerly. 

“‘You are Dutch Bill!’” said the other, mocking 
the words; “that’s all well enough. Everybody 
knows me and wherever I go there’s fun. Nobody 
gives up when Dutch Bill’s in the lead, even when 
the wagons stick in the mud to the hubs, and no- 
body cares though there’s not a drop o’ water to 
drink for three days— none to be had for love or 
lyioney— and it may be true, as you say, that Dutch 
Bill is known to everybody in Utah and California, 
Oregon and Santa Fe— but what o’ that? Do you 
think I’m going to the wagon-boss and tell him, 
either give this cub here a job or Dutch Bill will 
quit?” 

“ Caraclio! You are a bear who expects to have 
his ears scratched, but that I’ll not do except to a 


38 


JOSE, 


mule,” replied the young man, with angrily con- 
tracted brows. “Tell me straight out what you’ll 
do, and if I have asked too much in expecting you 
to take a poor boy under your care I’ll leave at 
once.” 

“Hold on there a minute! You’re a sort of a 
Mormon after all!” cried the freighter, pausing, his 
face assuming a faint grin. “First tell me why you 
single me out from among your own kind, since 
there are several Mexicans in the train.” 

“One reason is that I love the Germans better 
than all the Mexicans,” replied the boy, looking the 
other candidly in the face; “besides I’ve taken a 
special fancy to you ” 

“Indeed!” Bill interrupted him, tilting his hat 
back on his head; “I suppose you don’t call that 
scratching a fellow’s ears? It wouldn’t surprise me 
at all if you had learned to speak German and then 
went and forgot it again.” 

“I remember enough to talk with you!” replied 
the lad in good German, while the shadow of a 
melancholy expression flitted across his face. 

“Indeed!” replied the freighter, balancing his 
head while the hat resumed its comical pose on his 
right ear. “I don’t care what you say, you’re a 
funny little chap; but that’s nothing to me. I 
reckon I’ll have to help you. Do you take a drink 
occasionally? No? Very well,” he continued as the 
lad shook his head; “you won’t miss it on the road, 
which is devilish hard on an old fellow like me 
when the supply is running low. We might as well 
go at once and see how the wagon-boss feels to- 
day.” 

Together they walked toward the lodging-house 
and ascended to ope of the upper rooms, 


JosA 


39 


^‘You’re in luck, boy; he is here,” said Bill, seeing 
the key in the lock and opening the door without 
any formality. They encountered the frowning face 
of a man who was marking notes in a large pocket- 
book with a lead pencil. Bill walked straight toward 
him, taking the young man by the hand. . 

“Here’s a young fellow, Mr. Wood,” he said; 
“ w’ho can handle mules better than any of us and 
whom I'd like to recommend. He has just put the 
bHdle on that wild beast from Mississippi, and you 
know what sort of a brute he is.” 

The wagon-boss glanced at the youthful figure of 
Dutch Bill’s protege and ran his hand through his 
hair in a manner plainly showing that he was 
nettled. 

“That’s all very well, Bill,” he said; “but Mr. 
Green, the general agent in charge of the expedi- 
tion, arrived from St. Louis yesterday, bringing with 
him another high-toned gentleman, and insists on 
looking after things himself. I don’t know what it 
will all end in. I tell you this simply in order that 
you my lay your request before Mr. Green.” 

“I’ve been freighting across the plains for a good 
many years,” grumbled Bill ; “and this is the first 
time I ever heard of such a thing. It’s the wagon- 
boss’ business to hire his own men ; for he is the 
captain, and responsible for everything.” 

The other nodded. “Say so to the young gentle- 
man, Bill. Perhaps he’ll teach you a thing or two 
in your old days!” 

“A few words from Dutch Bill might do no harm, 
unless he’s an out-and-out Mormon.” 

“Try it!” said the wagon-master, with a laugh, 
“you’ll fihd him at the hotel up street/'’ 


40 


JOS± 


The freighter gave an energetic nod, exclaiming, 
“Come, boy!” and left the house. 

^ ^ ^ 

Henry Baumann had arrived at Independence 
with his companion the preceding day. The viva- 
cious American had become attached to the other 
during the few days of their association, with a 
warmth that gratified the German, even though he 
had not been able to acquit himself of his gloomy 
impressions sufficiently to meet his friend’s cordial 
advances as ardently as they deserved. Green had 
evidently done everything in his power to make the 
journey as pleasant as possible. Awaiting their in- 
spection at the hotel was a supply of champagne, 
canned oysters, all kinds of liquors, fish in oil, pre- 
served fruit and other dainties and conserves pre- 
pared for the occasion. Then there was a traveling 
coach, which was to convey these treasures, besides 
affording room for two persons to sleep in comfort- 
ably; two Kentucky thoroughbreds for riding and 
an excellent hunting outfit, all these imparting to 
the prospective journey across the plains more the 
character of a pleasure trip than a journey replete 
with hardships and dangers, at least as concerned 
the two young men.* All that evening Green was 
in such excellent spirits that Baumann began to 
fear that the expedition would be deprived of all its 
romance, and that his experience would end with 
the unavoidable discomforts of a series of outdoor 
bivouacs. 

Baumann’s apprehension was somewhat modified 
the following day, on his return from a walk 


* Green had received a circumstantial report from the wagon-boss* 
familiarized himself as far as possible with the state of affairs, coun- 
termanded arrangements, and reserved his judgment on other matters. 


JOSE. 


41 


through, the bustling town. He found Green seated 
on the open veranda of the hotel, evidently expect- 
ing him. 

“Let us go to our room,” he said, and Baumann 
saw by the expression of his face that something 
unusual had transpired. “I am greatly annoyed, 
and the worst of it is I cannot make up my mind 
what to do,” he continued, when they were alone. 
“Just after you left this morning a Kickapoo Indian, 
from the village, a short distance above here on the 
river, called and demanded to see me, saying that 
he had come to warn me against trouble from two 
rebellious tribes who would probably molest all 
trains crossing the Missouri. The trouble had been 
caused by one of the Government’s agents, and the 
prospects of a peaceable solution of the difficulty 
were still remote. I asked him who had sent him 
or asked him to deliver such a message and his 
answer was that “ Iron Fist” had commanded him 
to warn the overland trains, which made the news 
reliable beyond dispute. I asked him who Iron 
Fist was, but all he could answer was, that e^ery 
Kickapoo knew “Iron Fist,” but nothing more. I 
paid the Indian, though I could learn nothing addi- 
tional from him, and enjoined him not to give 
further circulation to the report, in order that my 
men may not be unnecessarily alarmed, dare devils 
though most of them may be ; but I am at a loss, 
now, to decide whether the news was invented to 
extort money from me, or whether it will be ad- 
visable to make extraordinary preparations for a 
possible attack, and if need be, postpone our de- 
parture.” 

He gazed inquiringly at his companion. 

“ In a case like this [ am certainly a poor coun- 


42 


JOSK 


selor,” said the German, thoughtfully; “but from 
what I have heard, the modern Indians are very 
unlike the noble savages of Cooper’s novels ; most of 
them understand some English or Spanish, have 
acquired some of the traits of civilized society 

“And have in consequence grown meaner and 
more dangerous,” Green interrupted, leaping to his 
feet and rubbing his brow. “ I am taking a respon- 
sibility upon myself for which I was not prepared. 
Our wagons carry two hundred thousand pounds of 
costly freight, and I have the responsibility of their 
safe-keeping!” 

He crossed the floor in rapid strides, when sud- 
denly a knock at the door interrupted him. At his 
invitation the door opened, and in stepped Dutch 
Bill with a singular mixture of self-consciousness 
and polite reserve, leading the young Mexican by 
one hand. 

“I came merely to inquire if Mr. Green has 
personally taken charge of the wagon-boss’ offlce,” 
he began, removing his hat with a slow gesture and 
looking from one to th^ other. 

“My name is Green,” said the young merchant, 
looking up in faint surprise at the weather-beaten 
freighter. 

“And I’m Dutch Bill, sir, known v/herever a 
wagon trail crosses the plains, now driver of the 
leading team in your train,” was the reply, and no 
minister plenipotentiary of a powerful prince could 
have introduced himself with a show of more ex- 
alted importance. 

“Glad to know you, Mr. Bill or whatever your 
other name may be,” said Green, holding out his 
hand to him with a smile, “You asked for the 
wagon-boss,’^ 


JOSE. 


43 


“Yes, sir — that is if you’re the man.” 

“I? how so?” 

“Well, sir, you know that the wagon-boss is like 
the captain of a vessel at sea. He’s got to know his 
men and he can’t have any interference in his busi- 
ness. How here’s a young fellow who’s worth more 
in handling mules than all the rest, but the wagon- 
boss tells me he has nothing to say about it and for 
me to go to you. Now all I want to know is who is 
commanding this here expedition, so that I may act 
accordingly. Two captains, side by side, never did 
do any good to nobody.” 

Green’s face for a moment flushed up. “Either 
Mr. Wood misinterpreted my orders or has grown 
sensitive over some instructions. I have no wish to 
interfere with his duties,” he replied, and only now 
he caught sight of the boy at the freighter’s side, 
and his look involuntarily remained fastened upon 
his dark, serious eyes. “ Perhaps I had better give 
you a few lines to him which will set everything 
right. By the way,” he continued, thoughtfully; 
“ I should like to ask your advice, since you are an 
old prairie wolf ; what do you think of the safety of 
the train if the Indians should become troublesome?” 

Bill shrugged his shoulders. “ There was never a 
season that I haven’t had a scimmage with ’em, but 
never lost a cargo or risked my scalp except once. 
There’s always more or less trouble with the red- 
skins ; but one gets used to it in time, like a sailor 
to a squall.” 

“But if there should be exceptional cause for 
alarm?” 

“ Get a few more rifles and let the train cut its 
way through. These fellQws ain’t half as danger- 


44 


JOSK 


ous as they paint themselves. I know this Mormon 
breed,” was the freighter’s nonchalant reply. 

Green looked at his friend and met a smile of 
approval and encouragement. 

“Have you no fear, my boy?” the former said, 
addressing the lad, who replied with a “no, sir,” 
shook his head and then dropped his eyes under the 
penetrating gaze of the young man. 

“Very well, then, men should have no cause for 
apprehension,” said Green, turning to an elegant 
writing-desk on the nearest table. “ I shall see Mr. 
“Wood myself in regard to some necessary measures 
of precaution ; in the meantime you may take this 
to him.” 

He dashed a few lines upon a piece of paper, 
which Dutch Bill carefully deposited under the 
sweat-band of his slouch hat, nodding his acknowl- 
edgment; and putting it back on his head the 
freighter said “good-by gentlemen,” and with his 
companion left the room. 

“Did you notice the remarkable face of that boy?” 
said Green, turning to his associate, when the door 
had closed behind the freighter. 

“Hot with particular attention, but it impressed 
me as quite interesting,” replied Baumann, looking 
up. “Ho doubt we shall soon see many others like 
it.” 

“I must own that those large, melancholy eyes 
have made a strange impression on me,” said the 
former, shaking his head with a faint smile. “You 
may be right. It is perhaps the novelty of that type 
of faces ; but I would have hardly believed myself 
susceptible to such impression had not I just ex- 
perienced it.” 

He gazed down at his feet a moment, qnd then 


JOSK 


45 


suddenly raised his head as if determined to shake 
off his impressions with an effort. 

“Well, we are going to meet the redskins. At all 
events we shall have something to tell when we 
return. So forward, and may good luck attend us!” 

In three days the loading of the wagons was 
finished ; the first team was finally started amid a 
volley of abuse, the cracking of whips and general 
confusion ; the stubborn resistance of the untamed 
mules against a systematic effort to pull their load 
was at last overcome, and slowly the great train 
began to move forward as stately an outfit as had 
ever been seen in the West; thirty-two canvas- 
covered wagons drawn by eight or ten mules each, 
according to the load ; a large drove of relav mules 
with their leader, a black stallion led by a driver, 
bringing up the rear ; and six riding horses at the 
side of the train ; thirty-two teamsters and twenty 
mule-drivers, each man armed with a rifle, pistol, 
and hunting knife. 

When all had been made ready, and the train 
passed in review before the two young men, Bau- 
mann could not repress the thought that the Indians 
would find it a tempting morsel, though he doubted 
not that their reception would be a warm one. 

It was a delightful afternoon. 

Some distance beyond Independence the signs of 
cultivation began gradually to disappear, and now 
the great plains stretched out before them into 
illimitable space, broken only at intervals by groves 
of trees; the cloudless sky extending in deep azure 
over the mighty waste and seeming to flow one into 
the other at the farthermost boundary of the 
horizon. Nothing marked the trail but the distinc- 
tion in the color of the grass, and now that the 


46 


JosA 


mules began to move forward over the soft, level 
ground with more uniformity of motion, Bill, who 
drove the leading team, sent his long whip-cord 
through the air in a series of zig-zag gyrations as if 
to vent his heart’s delight in the loud detonations 
of his trusty quirt. This done, he pushed back his 
hat and turned his attention to the little Mexican 
who, seated upon a mule, was gazing into the dis- 
tance with a thoughtful look. 

“There!” he began; “I reckon things will go 
smoothly now, at least for a while. Now, young 
gentleman, be kind enough to tell me where you 
have been for the past three days. I want to know 
if you call this fair treatment?” 

“Wasn’t I promptly on hand. Uncle Bill, and did 
I not do my share of the work?” answered the 
youth, with a sly side-glance at the freighter. 

“Oh!” grumbled Bill, with a slight contraction of 
his brows; that’s what you call doing the square 
thing by your friends, even when they worry about 
you!” 

“Did you really worry about me. Uncle Bill?” 

At this moment Green and his German friend 
came dashing up alongside the caravan. Baumann 
seemed intent on completely absorbing in his view 
the far-stretching landscape, which, interspersed 
with groves of trees of every shade and form, here 
assumed a peculiar interest. His face reflected re- 
newed animation, which seemed to expand his 
breast; while Green’s thoughts, on the contrary, 
seemed to turn to the practical, the condition of the 
train ; his glance, as he rode by, took in every ob- 
ject and detail, and when he had passed up the long 
line of wagons, he reined in his horse by the side of 
the leading team, while Baumann, wholly absorbed 


JOSE, 47 

in contemplating the magnificent view before him, 
dashed on in advance. 

“What has gone wrong now, Bill?” asked Green 
on hearing Bill’s voice, while his looks remained 
fastened on the youth, whose dark eyes had just 
encountered his, and whose confident bearing, his 
small hand on the halter strap, gave him a singular 
appearance. 

“ Everything’s moving nicely except this chip of a 
boy here. He keeps coming and going, goodness 
knows whence and where!” answered the freighter, 
with an expression of mingled anger and humor. 
“ When the wagon-boss put him to work I thought 
I’d take him home with me so he could have a place 
to hang out ; but before I could turn round he was 
gone and I never saw him for three days until this 
morning, when we commenced to hitch up.” 

The color in the young man’s face heightened 
perceptibly. 

“Did I neglect anything?” he asked, raising his 
eyes with a grave expression. 

“That isn’t the question!” continued Bill, still 
turned to Baumann, who had drawn nearer; “he 
put the harness on these eight Mormons in front of 
me, one after the other, quicker than it takes to tell 
it. I don’t know now how he did it. He must have 
been brought up with ’em — but it is right that a 
man should know who he is dealing with, and if a 
fellow wants friends he must make friends!” 

“ I believe Dutch Bill is right,” remarked Green, 
who watched the boy’s change of color with visible 
interest ; “ it will not do to have secrets among the 
men in a dangerous expedition across the plains.” 

The boy fiashed a passionate look, half of anger, 


48 


JOSE. 


half of pain, at the speaker; then gazed moodily 
down at his saddle and said : 

“ I have no secrets, but I supposed I had the right 
to go where and do what I pleased before we 
started. I do not wish to sleep in a hot room with 
twenty others ; I do not care to spend the day in a 
bar-room drinking whisky and smoking tobacco. I 
employed my time making friends with eight of our 
animals for our wagon — here they are, as well be- 
haved as if they had been in harness a week, while 
hack of us the men are still cursing and whipping 
like mad.” 

Bill snapped his whip in the air, to give vent to 
some vexing emotion, with so much energy that 
three of the leaders were startled out of their steady 
gait and began to paw the air on their hind legs ; 
but a few strange guttural exclamations from the 
Mexican quickly allayed their fear and soon brought 
them back to their gait. 

“What is your name, my boy?” asked Green, 
after a pause, in which he studied the little fellow’s 
appearance from head to foot. 

“Jose Maria, sir!” the latter replied, gravely, 
without raising his eyes. 

“Well, Jose, I think Bill ought to be satisfied with 
your explanation, and I hope we shall become better 
acquainted in the course of the journey.” 

He wheeled his horse about and looked back, and 
again his eye encountered the little fellow’s earnest 
look, which he suddenly averted in an opposite 
direction when Green turned his head. 

Slowly the caravan advanced, ever and anon 
brought to a halt by the stubbornness of the teams. 

“ I think you might have told that story about 
your cultivating the acquaintance of the mules, to 


J 08 ± 


49 


me, so that I might have known what you’d been 
doing,” began Dutch Bill, a'fter a pause, without 
turning his face toward his ward; “but that’s my 
luck ! I always take a shine to people who don’t 
deserve it!” 

“ And who began it by complaining to Mr. Green, 
and forced me to tell it?” answered the Mexican, 
with a touch of good-natured sarcasm. “Let us 
make peace. Uncle Bill. I shall never forget your 
kindness, but I can’t bear to be led by a halter and 
to apologize for everything I do.” 

“I’ve noticed that; but since you are with my 
team, why I must make the best of it!” He looked 
up with an expression of good humor and pitched 
his hat. on one ear. “You’re a Mormon and that 
expresses everything!” 


50 


josk 


CHAPTER IV. 

CAMPING ON THE PLAINS. 

Baumann rode on. Not in many years had he ex- 
perienced that blithe feeling of activity that was at 
this moment invigorating his entire being. He felt 
free in the midst of the infinite plains, stretching 
away in every direction — the silence unbroken save 
at intervals by an indistinct sound from the cara- 
van. His past life, with its narrow limits and re- 
strictions seemed forever blotted out of his exist- 
ence. He seemed entering upon a new career, in 
which the fondest hopes of his heart were to be 
realized; and he abandoned himself unreservedly 
to his illusions. 

In this frame of mind he silently pursued the trail 
for some time, when suddenly he detected three 
Indian horsemen approaching him. So sudden was 
the discovery that they seemed to have risen out of 
the ground before him. Baumann, in his journeys 
through the north-western fur regions, had been 
among several Indian tribes. He had always found 
them peacefully inclined, almost submissive where- 
ever their interests had been at stake, so that the 
romantic notions with which he had come among 
them were forcibly dispelled. His views took a new 
turn, however, when he noticed the many precau- 
tionary measures that had been adopted in fitting 
out the train against the danger of these same 
docile people. Drawing rein, he unstrung his rifie, 
but instantly after reproached himself for having 
done so. The three riders had meanwhile ap- 


J08K 


51 


proached near enough to be distinguished. Dirty 
woolen blankets enveloped half-starved forms that 
were seated on ponies even sorrier in appearance 
than their masters. Their long hair was tied in a 
rough coil at the back of their heads, and on the 
whole their looks betokened a desire rather to beg 
than to shed blood. Only one of the trio appeared 
to carry arms, a long rusty rifle strapped upon his 
back. They passed within flve feet of our horseman 
who, but for their treacherous looks, would have 
felt a touch of compassion for the emaciated con- 
dition of these men. 

On sighting the train, the Indians retired some 
distance from the trail, without, however, suffering 
it to pass out of their range of view, while Bau- 
mann, puzzled to account for their mysterious ap- 
pearance, decided that the best course of action 
would be to turn back at once and rejoin his com- 
panions. He was met by the wagon-boss before he 
had passed half the distance between him and the 
train. 

“I saw them some time ago,” was the reply, as 
Baumann related his singular encounter. “Their 
appearance so near the border betokens no good. 
The tribe of which they are members is too far 
reduced to venture open hostilities even against a 
solitary white man, but they are as thievish as a 
fox. Ho doubt they have long ago known of our 
approach.” 

They rode on together in silence until they reached 
the edge of a deep fracture in the soil, apparently 
the bed of an exhausted creek, through which a 
well-beaten wagon trail indicated that previous ex- 
peditions had crossed to the opposite side. 

“These are their favorite haunts,” the wagon-boss 


62 


JOSE. 


said, gazing up and down the bed of the stream. 
“At all events we sha’n’t be taken by surprise.” 

The caravan had possibly progressed twelve miles 
along the route, when the wagon-boss designated a 
spot near two ponds of water as the bivouac for the 
night. The wagons, with the poles outward, were 
drawn into a circular park, leaving an entrance 
only on one side, while the animals were relieved 
of their harness and suffered to nibble the succulent 
grass growing all around in ample profusion. Soon 
three large fires, for the preparation of supper and 
the indispensable coffee, were brightly blazing and 
the wagon-boss began to appoint the guards. By 
way of setting a good example. Green and Baumann 
volunteered to keep watch during the hours after 
midnight, and in a short space of time the corral 
and its environs presented a scene of busy prepara- 
tion. The manner in which each man attended to 
his own wants, providing for his comfort and safety 
during the night, made it evident that camping was 
not a novel experience to the crew, and served to 
inspire Green, who, at the side of his German 
friend, leisurely inspected the several groups, with 
a sense of security in regard to the happy issue of 
the expedition. 

Night rapidly descended upon the plains. The 
mules were securely herded in the corral, the camp- 
fires burned low, and in every direction dark forms, 
with rifles in their arms, were seen rolling up in 
their blankets and stretching themselves upon the 
ground. A group of five or six, with Dutch Bill in 
their center, puffing away at their pipes, was still 
awake. 

“You’ll find what’s the matter with the Santa Fe 
trail, if you’ve never been over it— all child’s play 


JOSE. 


53 


till you reach the Arkansas Eiver. The road is as 
level as a table, with only half a dozen small creeks 
on the way, hardly worth talking about, and the 
Indians a lot of burglars, not a bit like the Mormons 
you meet on the Oregon trail, who let you under- 
stand from the outset what sort of stuff they’re 
made of. The Indians hereabouts are burglars, 
that’s what the^^ are ! Where they can’t play fox, 
they’re afraid to play lion.” 

“I believe you, Uncle Bill,” remarked Jose, as he 
inspected his rifle by the dying glare of the camp 
fire. 

The freighter pushed his hat back from his brow 
and slowly turned over. 

“Oh!” he muttered, in a contemptuous tone. 
“Have an eye on this young woman Mormon,” he 
leisurely continued, addressing the others; “he’s 
one of the kind that believes nothing they haven’t 
seen with their own eyes. He’ll learn better, by 
and by,” 

Baumann, having examined his rifle, had. retired 
to Green’s wagon, with the intention of following 
the example of the rest ; but the events of the day 
had made him nervous, and for a long time he 
lay unable to sleep. He had lost sight of his 
American friend shortly after dark, and he did 
not like to go to sleep until his return. After a 
while, however, his thoughts began to mingle one 
into another, and a light slumber settled upon his 
senses, until a sudden fright caused him to 
straighten up again and sit erect. He had a con- 
fused remembrance of having heard a report of 
fire-arms and excited exclamations ; he started 
toward the opening of the wagon. 

A serene night had spread its shadows over the 


54 


JOSE, 


plain. ITo sounds were audible save an occasional 
whinny from the corral, and the faint, lugubrious 
howl of a nrairie-wolf in the distance. The young 
man examined his time-piece by the light of a 
match. It was nearly twelve o’clock, and Green 
still absent. He slowly arose and descended from 
the wagon, to search for him. At that instant he 
was called to take his turn as a guard, and a few 
minutes later was standing on the outskirts of the 
camp, rifle in hand, alone in the awful silence of the 
prairie-night. The stars gleamed with a radiance 
brighter than he had ever beheld, and he was soon 
able to distinguish his near surroundings. 

“ When in the darkness of the night, 

I stand alone,” 

was the refrain that involuntarily crossed his mind ; 

“My thoughts turn to my distant love,” 

and before he was fully conscious of it, his Vicks- 
burg adventure was again, vividly as ever, before 
him. He lived it all over again, with all the strange 
sentiments it had inspired in him at the time. 
Again he was reading her last farewell note, a 
recollection that extended even to the character of 
her writing, and when he came to the place where 
she stated, “Since, according to all human reckon- 
ing we shall never meet again,” he experienced a 
longing so wildly impulsive that, startled by the 
sudden violence of his own emotions, which he had 
long deemed subjugated, he strengthened himself 
with a forcible effort, and sighed heavily. At the 
moment in which he swept his glance fiercely over 
the plain, he noticed a suspicious agitafion of the 
grass that could not be caused by the mind. Ad- 
vancing a step, he scrutinized the spot closely, but 


JOSE. 


55 


all was calm and motionless as nature itself. He 
concluded that his eyes must have been deceived in 
the uncertain starlight, and accordingly returned to 
his first position. He was on the point of directing 
his thoughts into a definite channel to avoid a 
relapse into his previous state of mind, when he 
heard footsteps approaching and recognized Green. 

“Ah, here you are. I have something to say to 
you before returning to my post,” he began, in his 
usual lively manner, though in a suppressed voice, 
“moreover it is distressingly lonesome to stand 
guard when we might go to sleep with as much 
assurance of safety as though we were in St. Louis. 
Some strange mystery surrounds this Mexican boy, 
Jose,” he continued, in a low tone. “Heaven alone 
knows what induced me to take such a shine to him 
from the start, but I would give a fortune to dis- 
cover his secret. When all were asleep I strolled 
about the camp, and I saw him standing guard like 
a veteran, gazing fixedly into the distance. I was 
about to go up to him and say something, when I 
saw him suddenly drop on his knees and clutch his 
rifle like a man in the depth of despair. ‘An out- 
cast — a homeless wanderer — friendless!’ I heard 
him moan, in Spanish ; and sir, it was said in a 
tone that went straight to my heart. ‘Whither 
now? Away, away! why was I suffered to taste 
the delights of home, only to be turned out again!’ 
The Spanish is a wonderful language, Baumann ; it 
seems to have been especially created to express the 
emotion of the heart. What in any other tongue 
would sound extravagant, is philosophy in Spanish 
even from the lips of a boy, and such a boy as he ! 
Indeed, Baumann, he is unlike any other boy!” 

‘‘Well?” Baumann asked. 


66 


JOSK 


“Well, he lay without motion for some time, with 
his face buried in the s^rass. Never before did T 
experience such feelings as during those moments. 
When at last he rose to his feet and was about to 
turn his face, I stole away like a criminal. Call me 
foolish if you will, but this is certain, a deep mys- 
tery surrounds that boy ” 

“Hush!” Baumann exclaimed at this juncture, 
accompanying the words with a sudden gesture and 
picking up his rifle. The stalwart form of a man of 
giant proportions lose out of the grass directly in 
front of them. 

“ You are not vigilant, gentlemen,” said a calm 
voice. “Unless you post additional guards you will 
not have a single riding horse by daybreak.” 

“W'hat do you mean?” demanded Green, sizing 
up the giant Indian before him. 

“ I mean that robbers have broken into your camp 
and are doubtless at their mischief by this time.” 

“ Keep this man at the muzzle of your gun, Bau- 
mann,” said Green, starting up and hurrying back 
to his post. The Indian stood erect like a pillar of 
marble, facing the gun that was raised to the level 
of his heart. Suddenly a loud commotion was heard 
some distance in the rear. Cries and curses, fol- 
lowed by the report of a rifle ; and then a fearful 
death-yell burst upon the night air. A cold shudder 
crept over Baumann’s frame. The presentiment of 
some fatal catastrophe was racking his nerves, yet 
with it all a strange fascination of momentary ex- 
citement. Motionless the Indian stood, as though 
he were the guard instead of the guarded. 

“ Mormons I Only a pack of bungling scalawags !” 
Bill was suddenly heard to exclaim near by, amid 
the confused sounds gradually dying away in the 


JOSK 57 

distance. “ Bring him this way, sir, so we can con- 
fess the critter.” 

“Is it all over?” Baumann asked, slightly turning 
his head but keeping his eyes fixed on the Indian. 

“All over? Yes, up and away, like snakes in the 
grass — all but two. We nipped one by the leg just 
in time to hold him,” Bill replied, stepping up be- 
hind the prisoner ; “ and the other was killed down 
and over like a prairie chicken on a fence, by that 
Mexican infant, just as he was about to ride off a 
horse. He was the first on his feet and like a fiash 
after the red Mormons. Now, then, get along, part- 
ner,” he continued, plying the Indian with the butt 
of his rifie. 

“Will the wise man strike his friend who has 
watched over him?” asked the Indian, turning and 
gazing at the freighter with a stern look. 

“Friend?” repeated the other. “We’ll look into 
your friendship right away.” 

Without another word the Indian, covered by two 
rifies, was led to the camp, where a number of 
torches that had meanwhile been lighted, cast a 
spectral glare upon the groups of men rudely 
startled from their slumbers. In the center stood 
Green and the wagon-boss, while near at hand some 
of the freighters were lashing the captured Indian 
to the large wheel of a wagon. 

Erect and defiant, the Indian stepped into the 
circle of the light as if waiting to be addressed. 
The wagon-boss regarded him with a long, search- 
ing look ; then he said : 

“What brought you here? The Kickapoos rarely 
stray so far from their territory.” 

“The Kickapoos were commanded by Iron-Fist, 
the great hunter^ to bring tidings to all trains before 


58 


JOSE. 


reaching the Arkansas that the Comanches and 
Kiowas are in arms to tight for their rights,” the 
Indian replied, in a calm voice and in perfectly 
intelligible English. “We have brought the tidings, 
but we know that the homeless children of the 
prairie, whose name died with their people, are 
again straggling by the waters of the Missouri 
where the pale-face neglects caution. I followed 
the trail of my white brethren to shield them from 
harm, as Iron Fist bade me when he still lived in 
the land of the Kickapoos. I have spoken.” 

“Who is Iron Fist of whom you tell us?” 

“ He comes and goes as he wills. He is the bene- 
factor of the Kickapoos and the friend of the white 
man. He is Iron Fist, the great hunter !” 

“And does this end your mission?” 

“ My pale-face brethren now know all that the red 
man can tell them.” 

The wagon-boss interchanged a quick glance with 
Green. 

“You may eat and smoke with us, and if you have 
a wish speak and it shall be granted,” continued the 
former. 

“ I have nothing to ask, and my white friends 
crave sleep.” 

“Then take that for your squaw,” said Green, 
stepping up to the Indian and dropping several gold 
coins into his hand. The latter simply bowed with- 
out regarding the present ; nodded significantly to 
the wagon-boss, and strode rapidly toward the plain, 
where he soon disappeared in the darkness beyond 
the circle of the torch-light. 

The incident had visibly exerted a depressing in- 
fluence upon the crew. Hot one among them recol- 
lected ap instance of this kiqd, attempted with a 


JOSK 


59 


like degree of daring impudence, so near the pales 
of civilization. Coupled with the significant warn- 
ing of the Indian, the occurrence seemed an ill 
omen of impending danger from which none could 
escape. The freighters were silent. No bantering 
joke passed the rounds, not even the usual profanity 
in which a prairie man delights to vent his feelings 
after a moment of toil or danger, was heard. An 
additional number of guards were posted in silence 
as though an attack were imminent ; silently the 
^ rest of the men stretched out upon the grass, and 
even Bill’s irrepressible humor dickered low when 
the Indian was gone. He gazed around him frown- 
ingly for the Mexican, whom he found seated, 
heavily bundled despite the warm atmosphere, near 
one of the wagons, and he sullenly spread his 
blanket at the youth’s feet. 

“You’re a capital marksman, and I reckon you’d 
kill a redskin as easy as a chicken,” he said, finding 
Jose’s large eyes fixed upon him with a wide-awake 
expression. 

“I had to learn it!” was the reply, given in a 
strange, deep tone, wholly foreign to his voice. “ I 
fear the coyotes will leave precious little fiesh on his 
bones by daybreak.” 

“Just what he deserves, and the same to the 
fellow that’s to be left tied to the wheel all night,” 
muttered Bill, turning upon his side. “ This is the 
first time any one ever tried to spoil my first night’s 
sleep for me.” 

Green had silently noticed every face around him, 
and with a troubled look turned to his companion, 
who had alone remained calm after the late stirring 
incidents and met the young American’s look with 
perfect composure. 


60 


josA 


‘‘ I’d rather have lost a couple of horses than to 
have that redskin bring his warning into camp so 
soon after our departure. In many respects our 
men are as superstitious as old women ; but what 
most annoys me is the fact that I am to blame for it 
because of my deceitful sense of security.” 

“Not forgetting to mention the young Mexican!” 
replied Baumann, who appeared to be in excellent 
humor. “As a matter of fact I am just beginning 
to get interested in our journey, now that it is 
assuming a decidedly exciting turn — such, in fact, 
as I never dared hope for. First of all, there is, in 
our very midst, the mysterious Mexican, turning 
the head of our highly respected chief and shooting 
Indians with as much complacency as he would at a 
mark in a shooting-gallery — before us, a trackless 
waste, populated by blood-thirsty savages who, but 
for the timely intervention of a mysterious ad- 
monitor spreading his iron fist protectingly over our 
heads, would fain visit destruction upon the train, 
and who forestalls possible minor calamities by dis- 
patching his subalterns to warn us of impending 
dangers ” 

“Does this offer of voluntary protection puzzle 
you?” asked Green, smiling bitterly. “All this stuff 
about the warning I take to mean an eminently 
practical joke on the part of the Indians to extort 
money. We have had ample proof that the tatter- 
demalions who attempted to rob us are stragglers 
and vagabonds who hang out in this vicinity and 
are powerless to harm us, whether the Kickapoo 
warns us or not; but doubtless knowing of our 
coming, the latter was on the alert to take advan- 
tage of our credulity.” 

“How about the boy? Is that a joke, too?” 


JOSK 


61 


‘‘How so?” retorted Green, with a touch of anger 
at the tone of the question. “ Doubtless he ran away 
from somewhere and is now at a loss where to go — 
that’s the long and short of the matter. The prairie 
air and this uncommon experience have played me 
a sorry trick to-day, but it sha’n’t occur again. I 
only wish we were over the effects of this night’s 
developments. Let’s go to sleep, Baumann !” 

The German was silent, and soon both were com- 
fortably stretched out in their traveling carriage, 
where Green continued for some time to toss from 
side to side, while Baumann was quickly lost in a 
world of gay dreams which transported him into 
the thick of battle and again to Vicksburg, still 
pursuing his mysterious inamorata in a hopeless 
love-chase. Then, * suddenly, the whole web and 
woof of his dream was disturbed by a piercing yell 
of pain. He started up, barely conscious of his 
whereabouts. It was daylight, and again that 
scream sounded on the morning air. He scrambled 
to his feet, fearing a fresh calamity, when Green, 
who had disappeared from his side, stepped to the 
entrance and motioned him to be calm. 

“It’s only the redskin who is getting his deserts,” 
he said, his brow wrinkled. “He stood twelve 
lashes without wincing, hut the other eight seem to 
hurt him. I do not like to interfere with the wagon- 
boss or I would have spared him the rest ; but I 
can’t stand by and see it.” 

The rascal was being released as the men stepped 
into the open air; and he staggered toward the 
prairie, as if too weak to stand on his legs, and then 
fell into the high grass a short distance from the 
camp. Green turned away his face and approached 
the wagon-boss. 


62 


JOSA 


“What has become of the dead one?” he inquired. 
“ Do you think the members of his tribe will get 
him?” 

“There ain’t much left to get,” the latter replied, 
with a sinister smile. “The wolves have left noth- 
ing but his bones and they can bleach on the plains 
as well as many a better white man’s.” 

An hour later the animals were all harnessed, and 
the train again began to wind across the prairie in a 
long line. 

“ I shall be perfectly at ease when I hear the men 
begin to sing once more,” said Green, who came 
riding up from the rear of the train and took his 
place by Baumann’s side; “even the Mexican mule 
drivers, who are always howling their doleful 
strains, are silent.” He wheeled his horse about as 
if under the influence of some nervous agitation, 
and rode to the head of the train. “Hello, Bill! 
what in the name of mischief ails your whip? Can’t 
you make things lively?” 

“ There’s a time for sunshine and shadows, sir ; 
everything must have its turn,” replied the freighter, 
looking up. “This will pass away by and by.” 

Green appeared hardly to have heard the reply, 
^ and Baumann, who was watching him, shook his 
head as he noticed his friend fixing his whole atten- 
tion again upon the Mexican on the saddle-horse. 

“Are you always as sure of your shot as last 
night, my boy?” he began, after a pause. 

“I was compelled to learn it, sir!” the youth re- 
plied, raising his eyes but dropping them imme- 
diately on encountering the searching look of his 
interrogator. 

“Did you ever cross the plains before?” Green 
continued, with evident earnestness. 


JOSJ^. 


63 


“In California I lived near the Indians.” 

“Are your parents there at present?” 

“Never knew them, sir,” replied the lad, without 
raising his eyes, and speaking in a strangely deep 
tone of voice, which Bill had noticed for the first 
time last night. “It is thought that I was kid- 
napped by the Indians in Mexico or somewhere else, 
for there is no Indian blood in me, and I lived 
among them until from instinct I ran away to one 
of the settlements.” 

“You found friends, then?” 

“Yes,” was the reply, “and I became an office boy 
for a lawyer in San Francisco, where I learned to 
read, write, and cipher.” 

“Where do you come from now?” asked Mr. 
Green. 

The boy looked up surprised, and with a firm, cold 
expression in his beautiful eyes, as he said : 

“I came from Missouri, sir, as you must know, 
but have done nothing to be ashamed of.” 

The gentleman’s face colored and he replied 
quickly: “I did not wish to offend you, Jose. Give 
me your hand and don’t think ill of me.” 

“And who does?” cried Bill, now suddenly raising 
his head, while the boy placed his hand in Mr. 
Green’s, but with a sly gesture. Bill pushed back 
his hat and sent his whip-cord through the air in a 
series of sharp reports. “I’ll see that you get an 
uncle, boy — as fine a man as there is in the world, 
though it’s only Dutch Bill, and a home as big and 
wide as the plains. But the Mormon has got to 
come out of you or he’ll spoil everything!” He 
looked up at the lad with an expression radiant 
with all his old-time humor. 

“Done, Uncle Bill!” cried the latter, with an 


64 


JOS± 


attempt to smile, bending down and giving him his 
hand, while his eyes involuntarily followed the 
young American who had remained a short distance 
behind when the freighter abandoned himself to his 
outburst of emotion, and now rejoined his com- 
panion. 

“Did you find out where he came from?” was 
Baumann’s greeting. 

“Make fun of me if you like,” Green replied, with 
a faint laugh, while his cheeks assumed a slight 
fiush ; “ I can’t help being interested in him when- 
ever he raises his ^yonderful eyes to mine, and when 
I take into consideration his strange history, of 
which I have just had an intimation, I must own he 
is a singular creature, to say the least.” 

He pressed his horse and galloped away as if to 
escape his friend’s remarks, while Bill began anew 
to display his skill with the whip ; pushed his hat 
from one ear to the other, occasionally darting a 
half comical, half threatening look at the boy in the 
saddle, and then, in a hoarse voice, struck up a sort 
of tune without much distinguishable melody. But 
rough as it was, it seemed to raise the gloom that 
rested on the caravan ; there was a shaking of the 
whips among the drivers and a tentative switching 
in the air ; elsewhere, for the first time this morn- 
ing, resounded a familiar cheering to the animals, 
answered by others at different points, and in due 
time the long-drawn notes with which the Mexican 
muleteers introduce their songs, were borne along 
the line, mixing in horrid discord with Bill’s ditty. 
When toward noon, the train was ordered to halt, 
the influence of the preceding night had worn away 
on the surface, at least. 


JOSE. 


65 


CHAPTER V. 

A DISCOVERY. 

Ten days elapsed, during which the caravan con- 
tinued its way quietly and without interruption. 
Not a human being appeared, and no sound dis- 
turbed the quiet of the solemn night. 

Thus the train reached Council Grove, a small 
village inhabited by white men with Indian wives. 
Here, the stately mission house, with surroundings 
of inclosed and cultivated fields, intersected by a 
bountiful stream, appeared like an oasis in the 
desert. Green endeavored to obtain the most re- 
liable information in regard to the reported revolt 
of the Comanches, but none of the settlers claimed 
to have heard of it. They had been told, they said, 
that some slight disagreement had arisen between 
the Government agents and the Indians, in the 
Arkansas valley, but nobody attached any impor- 
tance to the matter, as similar cases were of frequent 
occurrence, without ever resulting in anything seri- 
ous. Green communicated the result of his investi- 
gation to the men with relieved feelings, but there 
were no signs either of re-assurance or doubt from 
any one but Dutch Bill who gravely nodded his 
head and remarked, “We must take things as they 
come.” 

Mr. Green spent many hours riding with Jose and 
conversing with him on various subjects. 

“There is a strange spirit in the boy, which forces 
itself through much of his ignorance and odd 
notions about things in general, and affords me a 
great deal of pleasure on account of its unique char- 


66 


JOSE, 


acter,” he had said to his friend. “If a child had 
ever been lost in our family, I would swear that he 
is my brother, in order to account for the peculiar 
fascination which the boy exercises over me and 
which I obey without understanding why.” 

Combining pleasure with profit, Baumann had for 
several days past, devoted himself zealously to 
hunting prairie chickens, as fresh meat was not one 
of the things included in the bill-of-fare of the 
caravan. On the fourth day, however, an incident 
transpired which threatened to upset his reason 
entirely. 

Late one afternoon, the wagon train arrived at 
one of those dry gulches, which frequently yawn 
abruptly at the traveler’s feet on the Santa Fe trail, 
and are called canons, extending many miles toward 
the nearest water ; and following the tracks of pre- 
ceding caravans, skirted the gulch to some con- 
venient fording-place, in order to resume the trail 
on the opposite shore. 

Baumann dismounted and turned his horse over 
to one of the drivers, and prepared to seek his way 
across the gulch alone. The soil was loamy, and 
afforded a firm foothold. There were also sundry 
marks, indicating that the path had been crossed 
before. 

The young man climbed slowly and carefully 
downward; arriving below he cut a green withe, 
and was looking for the best place to ascend the 
opposite bank, when his eyes fell upon a dark object 
that was boldly distinguished from the cotton-wood 
sprouts. He approached, and saw a short, black 
velvet wristband, one end tastefully decorated with 
a rosette, in the center of which was affixed a gold 
cross, evidently a lady’s ornament; but how it had 


JOSE. 


67 


come here, the emblem of refined society, in a gulch 
of the inhospitable plains, was enough to have ex- 
cited the fancy of an ordinary individual, while for 
Baumann it seemed to exercise an additional inter- 
est. He had barely taken it up and looked at it, 
when his eyes expanded and for a moment remained 
fixed upon the object with a wide stare. Then he 
struck his forehead with his palm. 

“Am I mad?” he cried. 

He cast another look at his find. “ It’s a fact I It 
is hers!” 

For a short time he stood thoughtfully gazing up 
into the blue expanse of the heavens, then he began 
hastily climbing up the rugged side of the canon, 
using his rifie for a support as he did so. Again he 
noticed the unmistakable impression of feet in the 
yielding soil. Arrived at the edge of the brink, he 
swept his eyes over the great plain as if to seek 
some sort of relationship between his thoughts and 
reality; then he again regarded the simple little 
ornament, and overcome by a multitude of strange 
emotions, he finally pressed his hand upon his eyes. 

“Wonderful, indeed, are the ways of Providence,” 
he at last said, proceeding slowly in the direction in 
which he knew the trail to be ; “ but man is only 
too easily disposed to believe what he hopes ; how 
could she have come here, and is it not altogether 
more likely that another hand than hers placed it 
there? How, indeed, God alone knows, since ours 
is the only train that left Independence within six 
weeks past, going in this direction!” 

He paused thoughtfully, shook his head, and 
pressed a kiss upon the rosette. 

“Thee I know,” he said, taking out his pocket-book 
and putting his find inside; “further I do not care 


68 


JOSE. 


to think at present, may you have come whence 
you will. I will not strain my mind endeavoring to 
solve an inexplicable mystery, but will accept it — ac- 
cept it as I have accepted her whole being, brightly 
rising like a meteor, only to disappear again, leav- 
ing no trace behind — inspiring the heart with fond 

hopes and leaving the ungratified ” Again he 

paused. “ I am certainly the most romantic factor 
in the great business world of Germany. Like 
friend Green I would ascribe it to the prairie air 

but for ” and he reopened his pocket-book : “but 

for the most unimpeachable evidence of the reality 
of things.” 

A short distance beyond the train had safely 
forded the canon, and the white line of wagons was 
again turning into the trail, while Baumann slowly 
headed for a point, in advance, at which he knew 
he must meet the caravan, his mind busy with a 
thousand strange conjectures. The ribbon with the 
small, gold cross, which had so wrought upon his 
feelings, was a bracelet which he remembered 
having seen on the wrist of the girl who, for a 
memorable quarter-hour, had rested on his bosom. 
He had closely observed the rosette at the time and 
well remembered the bewitching contrast it formed 
to her soft, white arm. He knew every fold of the 
ribbon, but especially this small, gold cross, which 
constituted an ornament as odd in design as it was 
rare. He could not be deceived, but how came it 
here? 

The train had meanwhile approached. Baumann 
had remounted his horse, but he rode by the side of 
the wagons like one in a dream, until he was sud- 
denly startled by Green’s hearty laugh at his very 
back. 


JOSK 


69 


‘‘Hello, sir; have you seen a glibst that you do 
not recognize your own name when you hear it?” 
he cried, gayly. 

Baumann sat erect, as though he wished to dispel 
his strange fascination, and passed his hand before 
his eyes. 

“You are not entirely wrong, but let us drop the 
subject for the present,” was the reply; “we cannot 
have far to go to reach camp, as the wagon-master 
informed us; I will tell you everything then.” 

Putting spurs to his horse he dashed on ahead of 
the caravan, as though he desired to escape the 
influence of his own thoughts. 

When, after several miles of travel, darkness set 
in and the wagons were corraled, and while the 
men were engaged in the preparation of their 
supper, the two friends separated from the re- 
mainder of the crew. Reclining upon their wagon 
cushions, Baumann unfolded to his companion his 
singular experience on the Vicksburg railroad, to- 
gether with all he had. suffered, and his subsequent 
great surprise at the discovery of the bracelet, 
which he then submitted to him for examination. 
An incredulous smile had at first rested upon 
Green’s countenance as Baumann related the cir- 
cumstances of his late experience, but thoughtfully 
he shook his head at sight of the odd little cross and 
the look of painful suspense in Baumann’s face. 

“Truth is often more wonderful than the most 
extravagant fancies of the mind,” he said, after a 
short pause. “But considering everything, I see no 
reason why this could not have happened. JSTot 
quite a week previous to our arrival at Indepen- 
dence, the Santa Fe stage passed this way. Since 
the girl has proven herself to be an enigma, she 


70 


JOSE. 


may have had a 'good reason for taking a trip across 
the plains, and if you are quite certain of the iden- 
tity of the bracelet, you can safely assume that in 
some unaccountable manner the owner lost it and 
that you are on the road over which your idol passed 
before us. Or is it that the thought of this highly 
plausible theory inspires you with alarm?” he con- 
tinued, laughingly slapping his companion, who 
was regarding him with large, staring eyes, upon 
the shoulder. 

“Alarm?” he answered, grasping Green’s arm; 
“I scarcely know if I may so call it. You present 
a possibility to my mind which makes me nervous. 
I realize that everything additional to be attached 
to your theory must disappear like an ignus fatuus: 
I concede that it is madness to attempt following 
across a trackless prairie the trail of a girl ; yet, 
from this day hence I shall have no other ambition. 
I know ’twill make me unhappy, but I feel that I 
shall not be able to leave off trying.” 

“Halloo, is it indeed, as grievous as this?” Green 
cried, jumping up. “Very well; then let me inform 
you that I for one fail to see why it should be an act 
of madness. You mustn’t deviate from the trail, 
and rest assured we shall follow your sweetheart by 
the most direct route. Pretty young ladies, especi- 
ally American ladies, are not remarkably frequent 
along the road, and so we shall have no great diffi- 
culty in making inquiries at every inhabited way 
station. Besides you know her full name, and even 
though we should have to follow her as far as Santa 
Fe, we shall easily find the few American families 
who live there. Give me your hand and cheer up. 
I’ll help you find her. Lest the devil has played a 


JOSE. 


71 


very peculiar sort of a trick with the bracelet, we 
shall succeed in our object!” 

From this moment onward, Baumann unhesi- 
tatingly attached himself to his American friend, 
with his whole heart responding to the latter’s kind 
advices, while with each night in camp the ties of 
friendship were drawn more indissolubly about 
them by the confidential interchange of their most 
latent thoughts. The caravan moving onward with 
steady progress and the quietude of the far-stretch- 
ing plain, together, aided the German in controlling 
his nervous excitement, so that he was soon enabled, 
on his lonely watch and under the dreamy infiuence 
of the silent prairie night, to smile at the thought of 
the strange relationship existing between Green 
and the Mexican. 

It was on the eleventh day since the train had 
taken its departure from Independence, that they 
sighted the first buffaloes. Instantly a change be- 
came manifest among the men, who discovered a 
prospect of soon dining upon fresh meat and juicy 
buffalo tongues, instead of the dry beans which had 
so long constituted their daily diet. In accordance 
with his usage of the past few days, Baumann was 
riding in advance of the train, while Green at once 
busied himself with the examination of bis rifle, in 
addition thrusting two double-barreled pistols into 
his belt. 

“’Tain’t worth the while yet,” said Bill, observing 
these preparations. “They’re bulls, tough as whip- 
straps and obstinate as Satan— genuine Mormons. 
’Twon’t be long before we’ll see plenty of fat cows.” 

“I am simply bent on having the first shot!” 
laughingly replied Green, dismounting and tighten- 
ing his saddle-girth. “Something, at least, can be 


72 


JOSE. 


cut out of that huge bulk of flesh.” So saying, he 
leaped into the saddle and sped away toward the 
knoll where the buffaloes were grazing. 

“I hope he’ll know how to attack the beast so as 
it don’t turn the tables on him,” the freighter 
growled, pulling his hat down into his face and 
gazing after the young man. 

The Mexican raised in his saddle, and for a mo- 
ment followed with his eyes the course the latter 
had taken, then quickly fastening his look on Bill’s 
face, said: 

“Is there danger, uncle?” 

“Not to an experienced hunter, but for an amateur 
so much the more,” continued the other, sulkily. 
“ In case he doesn’t strike ’em square under the left 
shoulder blade, and the beast gets sight of him, he 
can have the satisfaction of getting cured of the 
sport.” 

The buffaloes, on seeing the solitary horseman 
rapidly approaching, started off at a lumbering gait, 
soon disappearing behind the crest of the knoll, 
where Green quickly followed them. Yet Jose’s 
eyes remained steadily fixed in the direction taken 
by game and huntsman. For several minutes 
the caravan proceeded slowly on her way, 
when suddenly the whip-like report of Green’s 
rifle was heard in the distance. Bill listened 
attentively, hut soon turned his head quietly 
away. Jose had, on the contrary, remained stand- 
ing with upturned face, as though intent on catch- 
ing every sound that might follow. He had not 
long to wait, for soon a second report was wafted 
toward him, a less clearly defined sound, yet suf- 
ficiently distinct to be heard. In the lapse of an 
instant, the young man, having seemingly arrived 


JOSE. 


73 


at a sudden conclusion, had untied one of the disen- 
gaged horses, walking along the side of the wagons, 
as quickly gained its back, and the next moment 
was dashing away, fast as the horse would go, in 
the direction whence the sounds had proceeded, in 
the meantime unslinging a short rifle which he wore 
strapped upon his back. 

“Halloo! what’s up?” cried the wagon-boss, riding 
up from the rear of the train ; “ has the boy had an 
attack of sun-stroke?” 

“ It’s like the bullet fever,” Bill replied, chuckling ; 
“but I reckon you’d better ride after ’em, sir,” he 
continued, with a serious mien. “ It’s a dangerous 
thing when, the first ball fails to settle a buffalo, and 
I think I’ve heard Mr. Green’s pistol speak.” 

For only a second the wagon-boss gazed into the 
expressive countenance of the old freighter, when 
he turned his horse in the same direction taken by 
Jose, who had meanwhile disappeared over the 
ridge of the prairie, but when he reached the in- 
cline, he looked vainly about him for an indication 
by which to tell what direction he should next pur- 
sue. Like rolling billows the prairie extended on 
each side. Beyond the crest of the next knoll he 
could see, while he noticed in every direction tracks, 
made either by the hoofs of the buffaloes or the 
horses, he could not tell which. He paused to listen, 
but not a sound of any kind reached his ears. He 
dashed onward to the next ridge of the prairie, 
without success, however. A third endeavor in a 
side direction proved equally fruitless, and after a 
moment of painful suspense, with a despairing 
shake of the head, he finally turned back to rejoin 
his companions. 

Inspired w'ith the enthusiasm of the chase Green 


74 


JOSK 


had rapidly followed the buffaloes. Selecting the 
largest, he dashed madly onward without heeding 
the remainder of the herd, quickly scattering to all 
sides of him. It was the first buffalo he had ever 
pursued, but he had thoroughly familiarized him- 
self with the theory of the hunt before setting out 
upon the journey, in order that he might not be re- 
garded as a novice by his crew, and hence knew 
perfectly well that, mounted and with proper care, 
the danger was comparatively small. He readily 
gained the left side of the fieeing brute, sufficiently 
near that he had only to raise his rifie and pull the 
trigger. Taking advantage of an auspicious mo- 
ment, he aimed and fired. The bull leaped high up 
into the air and then stopped with such suddenness 
that Green’s horse shot far ahead. He pulled his an- 
imal about, in the supposition that the buffalo had 
received a mortal wound and would fall over in his 
death throes. To his profound astonishment his 
eyes encountered two cruel, fiery orbs in the lowered 
head of the buffalo, for an instant regarding him with 
a look of fierce rage ; and with his horns tearing up 
the ground, the maddened brute made straight for 
the startled hunter. The condition of affairs had 
changed with such rapidity, that Green could not 
have mustered his presence of mind with sufficient 
dispatch to have escaped the fearful onset of the 
wounded brute, but for the prompt action of his horse, 
which, leaping aside, in terror, suddenly turned 
about and in a direct line bounded away at the top of 
its speed. Green had quickly regained his self-pos- 
session, but only in time to see the maddened bull 
raging in pursuit, scarcely ten steps behind his 
horse’s hoofs. Drawing a pistol and aiming as best 
he could, he fired a second shot; but the buffalo 


JOSE. 


75 


seemed scarcely conscious of it, and simply shaking 
his shaggv head, appeared to grow even more infuri- 
ated. Green began to realize that his salvation de- 
pended on the speed and endurance of his horse 
alone, but the subsequent danger of losing his way on 
the trackless plain, at that instant, only flitted like a 
vague shadow through his mind. Over hill and dale 
his horse carried him, the buffalo following at an in- 
creased rate of speed. Once more Green turned to 
make a last attempt, drew his pistol and discharged 
both barrels at his revengeful pursuer. Simultane- 
ously his horse made a fearful leap sideways, and 
before he could do aught to prevent it, he was flung 
upon the ground, senseless. On opening his eyes, 
he observed the glowing orbs of the buffalo fastened 
upon him, scarcely a foot away, and instinctively 
he knew that the slightest sign of life on his part 
would be the signal for his immediate destruction. 
At first he could not understand why he had not 
awakened under the very hoofs of the infuriated 
animal ; neither could he explain the nature of his 
position. He seemed to be lying in a recess in the 
ground, for just above his head, at a level with his 
eyes, he saw the edge of the plain. These thoughts 
coursed confusedly through his mind. His look was 
firmly riveted upon the eyes of the buffalo, in the 
fearful expectancy of the next movement. How 
long he remained in this position he could not tell, 
but he was suddenly startled by the whip-like crack 
of a rifle in his immediate vicinity. Then he saw 
his pursuer’s eyes flash up wildly for a moment, the 
huge monster totter, hesitate, as though distrustful 
of its strength, to take a step forward, spread its 
legs— another second, and with a deep gasp roll over 
upon the ground. Almost at the same instant Green 


76 


JOSE. 


felt his hand seized and saw a youthful face, pale 
with excitement, bending over him. 

“For Heaven’s sake, sir, be careful,” said a trem- 
bling voice ; “ here, take hold of this limb and give 
me your other hand.” 

Green felt the smooth bark of a poplar limb thrust 
into his hand. He had also recognized Jose’s voice, 
and was in the act of rising to his feet, when he felt 
an elastic movement beneath him. 

“Not that way or you will surely fall,” cried the 
lad; “seize hold of the limb and my hand — tightly! 
— press your feet against the ground — now with a 
jerk — there !” 

Green was once more upon his feet and involun- 
tarily glanced at the place where he had been 
lying. That one glance revealed all to him. At his 
very feet, a yawning abyss extended in both direc- 
tions between two high ridges of the ground, whose 
edges were lined with a strange mixture of oak and 
cotton-wood bushes. Two or three strong limbs were 
all that had prevented him from falling down the 
steep sides of the gulch when his horse shied, and 
had securely borne him up until the moment of his 
rescue. Green’s second glance was directed toward 
the lad who had saved his life, of which he had 
begun to despair, and when he suddenly saw the 
5mimg man, deathly pale, flinging his arms up into 
the air and close his eyes, totter and sink upon the 
ground, he hastened toward him with a sharp ex- 
clamation of alarm. 

“It is only the reaction of his excitement,” he 
argued within himself, and yet he was strangely 
alarmed when he knelt down beside the unconscious 
lad, and in endeavoring to raise the slender form in 
his arms, the lifeless limbs fell heavily upon the 


JOSE. 


77 


grass. He gazed helplessly about for a drop of 
water. He tore open the blouse which appeared to 
strangle him. He found a closely-buttoned waist- 
coat beneath. He opened it. But suddenly he 
paused, thunderstruck. The white breast of a girl 
lay exposed to his view ! For an instant he stood 
motionless, completely overcome by his strange dis- 
covery. But it sufficed to restore him to the full 
possession of his faculties and to explain the mys- 
terious fascination which had involuntarily drawn 
him toward the lad. With a long lingering look he 
regarded the delicate, white features which now 
suddenly assumed an entirely different character ; 
then, as though he had been guilty of a serious 
crime, with nervous fingers he buttoned the vest, 
closed the blouse, and raising the limp, inanimate 
form in his arms, he pressed a soft kiss upon her 
cold, wan lips. It almost appeared to him that his 
kiss had instilled fresh life into her veins. He 
straightened up and eagerly observed the warm 
flush that was beginning to reanimate her face. 
At length a sigh escaped her lips, and slowly open- 
ing her eyes, she regarded him with a wild, dreamy 
look. 

“Are you recovered, Jose?” Green asked, in a 
trembling voice. She started, gazed wildly about 
her until her eye encountered the dead body of the 
buffalo, and seeming suddenly to realize her posi- 
tion in Green’s arms, by means of an adroit move- 
ment she regained her feet. Pressing her fingers 
upon her eyes, she smiled sweetly^as she said : 

“I presume the danger is past,” picking up the 
broad felt-hat that lay upon the ground and re- 
placing it upon her head. “For a moment all was 
dark before my eyes!” 


78 


JOSE, 


She seemed intent on avoiding the look that was 
on Green’s face, and turning her head she spied the 
two horses quietly grazing a short distance away. 
Quickly she was at their side and began coaxing the 
animals into her presence. Not until then did the 
thought of the caravan and the urgent necessity of 
regaining the trail without a moment’s delay, occur 
to Green’s mind. He followed Jose, forcibly con- 
trolling his many strange emotions, called his horse 
which joyfully came up to his side at the sound of 
the well-known voice, and soon Jose had captured 
the second. 

“ What motive had you in following me and how 
did you find the direction I had taken?” Green 
asked, as side by side they were riding back toward 
the trail. 

“I heard the crack of your pistol, sir, and felt 
satisfied that the buffalo would not give you time to 
reload your weapon,” Jose answered, looking 
straight ahead. “I followed the sound and the third 
report guided me to where I supposed I should find 
you. On seeing the buffalo, I had only to leap off 
my horse and place the muzzle of my gun squarely 
below his left shoulder blade.” 

“But supposing the animal had turned upon you?” 

“I hadn’t time, sir, to think of that, and then 
Uncle Bill said one had only to guard against being 
seen by the animal.” 

Green did not reply. He scanned the small, 
slender form at his side and wondered why he had 
never surmised the truth until now. What the 
nature of the strange sensations which suddenly 
coursed through his veins were, he did not know, 
nor what his discovery would finally lead to. It 
was with a feeling of pleasant relief, therefore, that 


JOSE. 


79 


he hailed the sight of a person on horseback, sud- 
denly appearing on the crest of the next ridge, in 
whom he readily recognized Bauman, who at sight 
of them, raised his rifle into the air and fired a 
salute. 

“ It appears that they have grown anxious about 
us,” Green observed, forcing his horse to an increase 
of speed. Soon an additional number of men were 
seen in various directions about them. They were 
received with greetings of joy, and shortly the trail 
with the caravan, which had been brought to a 
halt, lay exposed to their view. 

“Thank Heaven!” cried Baumann, who, followed 
by the wagon-boss, had ridden on in advance to 
meet them. “That was an hour of painful suspense. 
According to the statements of these men, you were 
in danger of losing the trail.” 

“ Indeed I was, and I came still hearer being sud- 
denly dispatched and heavily punished for my fool- 
hardy attempt,” was Green’s reply, warmly shaking 
the proffered hand. “It is not owing to myself that 

I am still alive ” he looked about him for his 

young companion. The latter, however, had mean- 
while gone to the head of the caravan, and after 
quietly tying the horse behind Bill’s wagon, as 
though nothing of unusual importance had tran- 
spired, he resumed his seat on the back of one of 
the draught mules. 

At that instant Bill’s whip was heard in a series 
of loud reports, the train was once^ more set in mo- 
tion, and the remainder of the men followed. 
Green, merely shaking his head without ending his 
sentence, rode onward. 

“To-night you will learn every detail of my 
strange adventure,” he said, after a deliberate 


80 


josA 


pause, turning to Baumann. “Just now I feel quite 
unable to do so. I was thrown from my horse, and 
I think it will be well to rest a while.” 

Baumann inquired anxiously if he thought he 
had sustained injury; but the American, with an 
assuring shake of the head, extended his hand, and 
was soon quietly reposing on the cushions of his 
wagon, his hands pressed against his face, his mind 
busily engaged with the stirring scenes of the past 
few hours. 

The camp was reached. Baumann had found his 
friend fast asleep and had shared with the crew 
their frugal meal. He then stretched out in the dry 
gra^s near the wagon to rest. Night had meanwhile 
set in. The moon was shedding her soft, mellow 
beams upon the prairie. The fires had died out and 
deep silence reigned over the encampment. Green 
arose, and in the uncertain light looked at his 
watch. It was past midnight, and with a long 
drawn breath he again stretched out upon his 
pillows. A consuming fire was raging 'in his veins, 
his head pained him, and his pulses throbbed with 
feverish heat. In his mind he beheld Jose, stripped 
of his male attire and arrayed in delicate white 
female robes, the large dark eyes fastened lovingly 
on him. At the same time he beheld in vivid colors 
himself tearing open the dress of the fainting lad 
and recalling life to his inanimate form by the 
pressure of his lips to hers. For several minutes he 
lay thus, until he heard Baumann called to his post 
of duty, and scarcely was he sure that the latter 
had left, when he arose, looked out, and silently 
slipped out of the wagon. Stealthily he stepped 
over the sleeping forms in the grass until he arrived 
at the entrance of the corral. Here he paused, and 


JOSK 


81 


for an instant gazed carefully about him. He saw 
lying in the grass an unused saddle and a buffalo 
robe. As he had surmised, Bill was called away to 
stand guard, and readily he now distinguished the 
closely blanketed form of Jose. He approached and 
knelt down by the side of the sleeping girl, tremb- 
lingly removing the cover from her face. 

“Jose!” he whispered, while at the same time he 
pressed his lips upon her in a passionate kiss. 

The lad started up and looked about him in 
affright. 

“’Tis I, Jose,” Green whispered, assuringly, pass- 
ing his arm round the slender waist of the Mexican. 
“ We are alone, but I have your secret, girl ; I know 
that you love me and I assure you that I have loved 
you from the first time that I gazed into your eyes, 
without having been able to explain why ; confide 
in me and banish your scruples ” 

He pressed her to his heart, but with a sudden 
movement she escaped his embrace and regained 
her feet. 

“Oh, merciful Heaven!” she exclaimed, in a tone 
of anguish, extending her arms toward the sky; 
and falling upon her knees and burying her face in 
the grass, she broke forth into a paroxysm of tears 
that shook her form and inspired the young man 
with sudden alarm. 

“ Darling — Jose !” he cried ; “ what have I done ” 

The girl arose to her feet, quickly. 

“Go, sir!” she said, pointing in the distance. “I 
am aware that you care nothing for the fate of a 
poor creature who would gladly have sacrificed her 
life to save yours. Leave me!” she cried, wildly, as 
Green approached. “I will go out upon the prairie 
among the wolves !” 


82 


JOSE; 


‘‘Jose! for mercy’s sake!” Green said, passion- 
ately. “I cannot leave you in this manner.” 

Without a word, the girl grasped her rifle, robe, 
and pillow, and disappeared before the man had 
time to turn. He pressed his hand to his forehead. 
“T might have known how it would be !” he groaned 
to himself, and then he slowly returned to his 
wagon. 

The following day. Bill, with a startled look upon 
his face, announced to the wagon-boss that the 
young Mexican had mysteriously disappeared. 

Mr. Green was alarmed, but expressed the belief 
that Jose would return before they moved on, but 
prevailed upon Bill to scour the prairie for traces of 
the lost one. 

For two hours the search was maintained but 
without success. The wagon-boss muttered some- 
thing about mysterious character — “ Intentional De- 
sertion”' — and then ordered the wagons to form into 
line. 

In a few moments the caravan was once more 
moving on its journey. 


JOSE. 


CHAPTER YI. 

ALONG THE ARKANSAS. 

The succeeding days were to Baumann full of 
wearisome monotony. Green, since the disappear- 
ance of the Mexican boy, seemed to have undergone 
a complete change; riding for hours together at the 
head of the train, staring fixedly across the grassy 
expanse and replying to the German either with a 
smile that sufficiently indicated his thoughts to be 
roaming far away, or, perchance, dropping some 
casual remarks whose tone and character amply 
suggested to the refined Baumann the impropriety 
of plying his friend with further questions regard- 
ing his altered mood. Dutch Bill formed a striking 
companion-piece to Green^ in that, the disappear- 
ance of Jose, seemed to have extinguished too in 
him every rising inclination of his natural humor. 
When the fruitless efforts to find the Mexican were 
announced, he obediently led off with the leading 
team without a word, but from thence on, his 
animals were more than commonly made to feel 
the energy of his whip. His piercing eyes all day 
long searched the boundless prairie, sharply scru- 
tinizing each distant object, while at the camp-fires 
at night Bill morosely rejected all approaches to a 
conversation. When Green, who seemed purposely 
to avoid the confidence of Baumann, sat down be- 
side him and faintly asked, “What do you think of 
this affair. Bill?” the latter twisted his face into a 
grimace as if struggling with an emotion that 


84 JOSK 

threatened to overpower him, and after a pause 
observed : 

“Well, sir, I give it up ! The wagon-boss has been 
saying something about suspicious characters, but 
ITl leave it to you if the boy wouldn’t have stolen a 
horse, or something, if he wasn’t square.” 

“ But what can have become of him if he went 
away of his own accord?” 

“Don’t know, sir; been trying to make it out 
myself. Very few have ever tried to cross the plains 
alone, and them that have won’t undertake it a 
second time.” 

Green dropped his head, and the conversation was 
at an end; but from that time on a peculiar friend- 
ship existed between the two. That same night the 
voung man camped in the open air, very near to the 
old driver. This he did for several nights in suc- 
cession. Baumann, with a dubious shake of the 
head, abandoned his friend to his whims without 
comment. He had resolved in the beginning not to 
force himself into Green’s confidence, and although 
the latter’s strange way of relieving himself of his 
society, offended him at first, he nevertheless let 
the matter pass without any sign of feeling and 
spent most of his time at the head of the train. 

Often he gave himself up to fanciful dreams of 
his lost love or ideal, and imagined that the finding 
of the precious trinket was an omen of future hap- 
piness. 

An exciting adventure with buffaloes soon occu- 
pied the attention of all. 

When Green was urged by Baumann to take part 
in the sport, he said : 

“I have had quite enough of that business this 
trip, and though the brutes allow themselves to be 


JOSE. 


85 


killed most obligingly, I never can suppress an un- 
pleasant sensation when I see one of those stragglers 
plowing over the ground. Fifteen minutes sport 
such as I experienced, is not soon forgotten. By the 
way, I promised to relate my adventure to you, 
Baumann,” he continued, after a pause. 

The man was apparently making an effort to re- 
lease himself from a mental strain and his friend 
looked up and smiled in a re-assuring way. 

“ I have not had an opportunity,” Green continued, 
“ and I am obliged to you for respecting my silence. 
Give me time and I will tell you everything.” 

The young German held out his hand. “You 
know where you can call upon a friend whenever 
you need one, Green,” he said, giving the other’s 
hand a warm pressure. “ Do as you think best and 
rest assured I shall not feel grieved at a fleeting 
mood.” 

He nodded to the other and cantered away, while 
Green gazed after him as if relieved of a great 
burden. 

Fully five days elapsed ere the train reached the 
end of the drove of browsing buffaloes, consisting 
as it did of a million head, and every available space 
in the wagons was stocked with fresh meat, which 
in the rarefied atmosphere of the plains dries rather 
than spoils; and on the night of the seventeenth 
day out, camp was struck on the shores of the 
Arkansas River, along which the Santa Fe trail 
winds for a distance of a hundred miles ere it inter- 
sects it. 

After the evening meal, Baumann lighted a cigar 
and was in the act of strolling toward the stream, 
which presented a grateful change, with its shrub- 


86 


JOSE. 


bery gilded by the setting sun, when Green joined 
him for the first time in many days. 

“We shall certainl} reach Fort Atkinson in five 
or six days, and there doubtless learn something in 
regard to the passengers of the lost stage-coach and 
the owner of your bracelet,” he said, walking by 
the German’s side. “I’ll keep my promise.” 

Baumann, at this moment, was thinking less of 
his own love affair than of the strange expression 
of trouble that had fixed itself upon Green’s face in 
the last few days, and which forced itself into 
notice in spite of the smile that accompanied his 
words. 

“ I wish I could in return say something to you 
that would restore your old spirits!” said the Ger- 
man, while a slight fiush suddenly rose in Green’s 
face. 

“Nevermind; they will return in due time,” he 
said, gazing into the distance. “Though I may ap- 
pear foolish to you now, you’ll learn better by and 
by. But, as I was going to say, I am beginning to 
think that our fear of the Indians is all nonsense, 
or, if there was any cause for it before, it had long 
since disappeared, and the tribes were either on a 
buffalo hunt or on the war-path in the far West. 
We should otherwise have seen something of them 
long ago in the course of our journey. Now that 
we are going straight in the direction of the fort, 
there is less cause to be alarmed than ever ” 

He paused abruptly and stood still. Baumann 
looked up and soon discovered the cause of the 
interruption. 

Forty or fifty feet before them, as if suddenly 
risen out of the ground, stood a man of gigantic 
proportions, dressed in a strange combination of 


JOSE, 


87 


European and Indian dress. The long, straggling 
beard of iron gray, and a slouch felt hat, covering 
part of his neck and shoulders, readily indicated 
that the mysterious stranger was a white man de- 
spite the apparent contradiction presented by the 
dark, weather-beaten face. A wide game-bag that 
had seen much service, and a double-barreled gun 
projecting above his shoulders, completed the ex- 
terior of a man whose general appearance was at 
the first glance little calculated to inspire confi- 
dence. There he stood as if he had occupied the 
spot for some time, swept a glance over the brows- 
ing animals and the camp, and then deliberately 
approached the two young men. 

“Pleasant evening, gentlemen!” he said, as if he 
had met them in the streets of St. Louis. Green 
mechanically replied : 

“Very pleasant, indeed, sir!” while his eyes criti- 
cally inspected the man’s giant stature and his 
strange accouterments. 

“Fine animals, those!” the man continued, in a 
bland conversational tone; “a nice morsel for the 
Indians. The last train had nothing but steers.” 

“I dare say we shall know how to protect our 
property!” retorted Green, fixing a firm look on the 
speaker’s face, in which he imagined, however, to 
detect an expression of simple good humor. 

“That’s about all that can be done, I reckon!” the 
new arrival said, with a nod of the head, stalking 
toward the camp. The two friends followed him 
with their eyes. 

“ Who is he, and where did he come from so un- 
expectedly?” Green began; “if the Indians should 
pop out of the ground all around us like this fellow, 
we may as well suspend our vigilance!” 


88 


J08K 


‘‘A singular being,” Baumann replied, after a 
short observation. “ I see one of our men has gone 
to meet him and is taking him to the wagon-boss. 
Let us return.” 

The strange visitor had created not a little com- 
motion in the camp. 

“ 1 reckon you can spare a bite for a hungry man, 
can’t you?” he said to the wagon-boss, without 
seeming to notice the sharp scrutiny to which he 
was subjected by the latter, seating himself uncere- 
moniously at one of the fires. “ Yon needn’t be 
alarmed on account of my presence, sir !” he said, 
with a roguish look that appeared singularly strange 
on his furrowed face, and boldly meeting Wood’s 
scrutiny. “I’m not going to spend the night with 
you, and if you’ve no greater dangers to fear than 
through me, you may rest easy!” 

“ That’s all right, sir,” retorted the wagon-boss, in- 
specting every detail of the appearance of the new 
arrival; “but we’re in an enemy’s country, and it’s 
only just and right to give an account of yourself on 
entering a camp like ours.” 

“ I reckon all you’ve seen of the plains is where 
the wagon tracks cross it, else you would feed a 
hungry man before you cross-examine him — that is 
if any cross-examining’s to be done,” the other 
replied, with perfect composure; “at least that’s 
the custom even among the Indians, according to 
my experience!” 

The wagon-boss seemed to be on the point of 
making an angry retort, but turned to one of the 
men and ordered him to serve the stranger with 
some food. In the meantime the new arrival slowly 
but critically swept his eyes, shaded by fierce bushy 
brows, over the crew and the various parts of the 


JOSK 


89 


general equipment, until a large canteen of steam- 
ing coffee, a slice of buffalo roast, and a tin plate of 
baked beans were set before him, when a new 
peculiarity in the man began to manifest itself. 
His left hand appeared to be crippled and was com- 
pletely bandaged with a broad strip of buckskin. 

Notwithstanding this, he handled the fork, which 
he somehow fixed between the strips, with complete 
ease, and meat, beans, and coffee disappeared in a 
manner that proved that he had not exaggerated 
his statement that he was hungry. At last, with a 
nod to the wagon-boss who was sitting near him, he 
pushed the utensils aside, drew forth a tobacco 
pouch and a pipe — which latter he stuffed with re- 
markable dexterity with his right hand — and was 
soon blowing puffs of smoke into the air with evi- 
dent gusto. 

‘‘So, now go on with your questions,” he said, 
with an air of comfort, “ and by way of thanks. I’ll 
tell you all that’s in my old noddle.” 

The sun had disappeared some time, and had 
been succeeded by the dusk of a moonlit night. 
Green and Baumann, upon their arrival, had been 
witnesses of the closing portion of the conversation, 
and the former had been quietly engaged in a con- 
sultation with the wagon-boss while the stranger 
was devouring his supper. At this juncture the fire 
was replenished and the strange visitor appeared to 
the eyes of the observers in the brilliant glow of 
the crackling blaze. 

“Just tell us what you have to say in your own 
way,” said the wagon-boss, in reply to the last re- 
mark of the stranger. “ I reckon that’s all we’ll get 
out of you, anyway.” 

“ There’s certainly considerable sense in the sup- 


90 


JOSE, 


position,” said the latter, while a quiet smile stole 
over his weather-beaten countenance. “As to my 
name, they call me Old Bob, hereabouts, that is, 
among the whites at Fort Atkinson. The Indians 
call me by two or three names which you wouldn’t 
understand nohow, even if I told you. As for my 
business, it’s that of a hunter and trapper, though 
it’s poor picking, God knows, along the x^rkansas, 
and I only stay there to please the commander of 
the fort who insists that I’m just the man for 
certain duties that are a little too much for the 
understanding of the Irish lads of his company. I 
started on a stroll down the Santa Fe trail a few 
days ago, and here you see me!” He nodded as if 
perfectly satisfied with his report, and complacently 
blew a dense cloud of smoke into the air. 

“Will you please inform us. Old Bob, if there is 
any truth in the report that the Indians in this 
vicinity are likely to give trouble?” Green asked, 
moving forward into the circle of the light. “I 
shall be glad to compensate you in any way I can 
for definite information on the subject.” 

The old fellow shrugged his shoulders. 

“You must have had some inkling of the state of 
affairs when you started, or you wouldn’t know so 
much about it now,” he replied; “but since you are 
here you must make the best of it.” 

“Can you advise us in any way what to do?” 
asked Green, with a touch of alarm. 

“ Old Bob was never much of a successful adviser 
among the whites!” replied the stranger, with a 
peculiar smile; “but if I had charge of this train I 
would march by night and go into camp after sun- 
up. The Comanche generally attacks in broad day- 


JOSE, 


91 


light. For the rest, the commander of a wagon-train 
is supposed himself to know what’s best to do.” 

“ Is nothing being done by the fort to insure the 
safety of the trail, or is it useless to look for help 
from that quarter even in case of supreme neces- 
sity?” Green continued to ask. 

The old man shrugged his shoulders. 

“I left there several days ago and don’t know how 
matters stand there at the present time ; but I fancy 
the ninety Irish lads that make up the company are 
glad themselves to escape injury, and will hardly 
molest the thousand redskins who are gathered 
together along the Arkansas.” 

“Can you tell me if this trouble was brewing 
when the last Santa Fe stage passed this way?” 
asked Baumann, bending forward. 

The stranger turned his head at the sound of the 
voice, and seemed to study the speaker’s face with 
special interest. 

“No Indian will attack a mail coach,” he replied, 
having completed his survey; “the redskins are 
sharp enough to confine their attacks to private 
property.” 

“Well, Old Bob — since you insist that that is your 
name,” Green began, approaching; “can’t I induce 
you to remain with us a few days until the worst is 
over? I will gladly pay you what you consider 
right.” 

The stranger slowly shook his head. 

“ I am at peace with the whites as well as the 
Indians, and they must settle their disputes among 
themselves!” he said. “And then I couldn’t help 
you by staying here. Do as I told you, and don’t 
lose an hour of a night. Make your line as short as 


92 JOSK 

possible and keep your eyes open as if you were in 
an enemy’s country.” 

He nodded at the wagon-boss and disappeared 
among the shrubbery. 

Green beckoned to Baumann and the wagon-boss 
and slowly passed out of ear-shot of the crew. 

“ What is your opinion of the visitor?” he asked, 
when they finally paused. 

“I can only repeat what I said before,” replied the 
wagon-boss; “I don’t trust the bird in spite of his 
honest looks. What is he doing here so far from 
the fort, if he isn’t a spy? The whites that live 
among the Indians are by far the worst, and a man 
that’s half blind can tell that he’s lived among ’em 
a long time. Travel by night, indeed ! That would 
be the best way in the world to give the redskins a 
chance to sneak in upon us unobserved ; that is pro- 
viding there’s really any danger, as he says.” 

“And what is your advice?” 

“ Well, sir, we must keep right on — there’s no help 
for it. Our provisions may last several days beyond 
Fort Atkinson but must be replenished there ; and 
all we can do now is to prepare ourselves for any 
emergency. We must form the train into lines so 
as to reduce its length one half that the men may 
better assist one another and the wagons be drawn 
more quickly into a square ; but I think if the fort 
which, with its canvas tents, can hardly weather a 
storm, is still holding out, and the company of 
soldiers is still living in it, our danger is not so great 
as we imagine.” 

“My advice, Mr. Wood,” said Green, after a short 
refiection; “is, that you call the men together and 
give them a faithful account of the state of affairs. 


JOSK 


93 


They will then know what to expect and how much 
is depending upon their vigilance. As for the rest, 
I leave everything to you.” 

With Baumann at his side he walked toward the 
wagon. 

“ I am not sure — without desiring more than to 
express an opinion — that I should have been so 
prompt to sacrifice the advice of that old prairie 
wolf to the suggestions of the wagon-boss,” re- 
marked the German. “I watched his weather- 
bronzed face from the time he sat down, and it 
struck me as expressive of the most kindly interest. 
His appearance may look strange to us, but as for 
me, I would trust him if necessary with my life and 
all I possess in the world in spite of his eccentric 
ways.” 

“ That is all very well, but what can you do to 
make the wagon-boss share your opinions?” replied 
Green, faintly. “Perhaps I feel as you do; but 
what am I to do unless I run the risk of insulting 
him and possibly half the crew, which places im- 
plicit confidence in him, as was the case once before 
at Independence. And, after all, I could hardly 
oppose him with any good reasons. Come, let us 
find a place to sleep and for the rest put our faith 
in God. I suppose it will be wise for us to remain 
in the open air so that, in case of emergency, we 
shall be close at hand.” 

But the night passed away as silently as any of 
those preceding, and in the morning the caravan, 
drawn into a compact double line and every rifie 
freshly charged, went on its way as usual, the 
wagon-boss, with the two friends at his side, a short 
distance in the van. The noonday pause, too, passed 
without interruption, and not until toward evening. 


94 


JOSt. 


when they reached a small creek, did anything 
transpire to cause alarm. About this time, the crew 
descried, at a great distance in a side direction, the 
figure of a man and horse. The rider, on sighting 
the train, urged his nag to increased speed, although 
it was evident upon closer inspection, that the man 
was anything but an expert equestrian. He wore 
the uniform of a United States soldier and was 
mounted upon his horse without a saddle, his knees 
drawn up, hugging the animaPs sides, and his 
hands firmly twisted in the mane. 

He was greeted by a shout of laughter from the 
crew when, arrived near the creek, he tumbled 
rather than slid from the animal’s back ; but their 
merriment quickly subsided on seeing the man, 
without regard for his surroundings, first attempt 
to rise to his feet, and failing, crawl toward the 
creek, to which his horse had already preceded him, 
and extended flat on the ground, eagerly lap up the 
slimy water. Having apparently quenched the first 
cravings of his thirst, he remained for some time in 
a state of semi-unconsciousness, when finally he 
raised himself in the arms of two of the mule- 
drivers who had run to his assistance, and gazed 
about him with an expression that again excited the 
laughter of the men. 

“Been dry for some time, eh, Pat?” one of them 
asked. 

“ Begorra ! If the beast hadn’t had more gump- 
tion. than I, I’d taken the next drink in another 
world!” replied the soldier, in a faint voice, looking 
around for his horse, which had meanwhile ap- 
proached the animals of the train with extended 
neck and a low whinny. 

The wagon-boss had dismounted from his horse 


JosA 


95 


after a short scrutiny of the new arrival, and now 
ordered the formation of the corral. 

“You come from Fort Atkinson?” he asked, turn- 
ing to the soldier who had stretched himself in the 
grass as if totally exhausted ; “ when did you leave 
there ?” 

“Two or three days ago or such a matter, sir!” he 
replied, faintly, but with an unmistakable Irish 
accent. “My head finally lost all reckoning of 
time.” 

The wagon-boss looked into the pale, wasted face 
of the soldier; then turned away and beckoned one 
of the drivers to provide for him. Soon the camp- 
fires were blazing, the kettles boiling, and the in- 
evitable beans sputtering in a strong stew of buffalo 
meat. The soldier was watching the preparations 
of the meal with hungry looks, then eagerly de- 
voured his portion, and but reluctantly yielded to 
the restraint of moderation forced upon him by the 
consideration of his long fast. 

“Did you leave the fort of your own freewill?” 
asked Wood, who with Green and the latter’s com- 
panion, had seated himself near the guest when the 
meal was finished. 

“Well, with about as much free will as any man 
can be said to have at the fort, now a days, or I 
would not have thought of deserting,” was the 
answer. “ One day you can see nothing but red- 
skins and horses on either side of the river; the 
next they come into the fort regardless of the garri- 
son, walk through the houses and rooms, cut up all 
kinds of Indian shines and then depart, just to show 
what they could do if they wanted to. For the next 
few days you can’t see a trace of them. The whole 
business struck me from the start as being the old 


96 


JOSE. 


game of tlie cat and the mouse, in which the cat 
finally devours the mouse ; but one day I heard a 
story, and then I got bolder. I was on guard duty 
when the red devils returned, and I leveled my gun 
at five or six of them. Well, sir, they laughed at 
me like so many devils, and I’ll confess I felt any- 
thing but comfortable. They talked among them- 
selves a minute or so, and then they took my gun 
away. I hardly knew how. I felt myself lifted on 
one of the horses that belonged to the fort and are 
always kept ready saddled, and away we went 
lickety-split across the plains. They must have put 
something under his tail or done some other mis- 
chief, for he went like the old Harry, and I suppose 
I should have fallen off at the first dash had I not 
held on with teeth and toe-nails. When the brute 
finally got rid of the devilish thing that bothered 
him and came to a halt, I was far out on the plains 
and hadn’t an idea which way to turn. I think I 
passed two nights in the open, chewed grass and 
only drank water once, out of a mud-hole — but like 
as not it was three nights instead of two. Toward 
the last, everything was like a dream to me, out of 
which I would occasionally wake with a start, and 
I should not have been able to stay on my horse if I 
hadn’t felt that if ever I fell off it would be the last 
of me.” 

“You think, then, that the Indians are only mis- 
chievous rather than disposed to commit depreda- 
tions and other outrages?” the wagon-boss inter- 
rupted. 

“Well, sir,” replied the soldier, slowly scratching 
the back of his head; “I wouldn’t vouch for the red 
devils fifteen minutes. It always looked to me as 
if they were only waiting for a good opportunity to 


JOSK 


9t 

get their work in. The fact that they Ve treated the 
fort with such distinguished consideration has a 
curious explanation. Although I don’t believe any 
ghost haunts these plains, I’ve never yet been able 
to get at the bottom of the story.” 

The soldier assumed a mysterious look and gazed 
about him upon the circle of interested faces as if to 
convince himself again that he might relate the 
story in perfect security. 

“ It was this story, sir, that made me bold toward 
the red varmin,” he then continued. “When the 
Indians first began to gather around the fort, we 
saw little of them beyond an occasional squad that 
would come galloping up to the guards and spout 
something in Spanish — part of them speak Spanish, 
sir, outside of their Indian palaver — which, from 
the actions that went with it, we took to be insults, 
to which, however, we paid no attention. By and 
by they got bolder and more domineering, insisting 
on entering the fort; and when, one day, half a 
dozen of the boys disputed their passage, our men 
were run over before they could use their arms. 
The Indians rode through the gate and struck up a 
yell as if they’d done wonders, and then rode off 
again. None of the men were killed, but all had 
been roughly handled, and not one of them could 
stand up on his pins, and the rest of us saw that it 
was only a question of time until the red devils, in- 
creasing in numbers day after day, would run the 
fort and us into the bargain. The first thing our 
commandant saw, the next morning, was a strange 
commotion and confusion in one of the camps, from 
which he concluded that we were likely to be 
attacked. But the day passed quietly and that 
night we learned from the commander that fifteen 


98 


JOSE. 


of the Indian’s ponies had been found dead, without 
the sharpest fellow among them being able to tell 
how it had happened.” 

A long silence succeeded the closing words, when 
Green arose to his feet and was soon followed by 
the wagon-boss. 

“I reckon,” growled Dutch Bill, ‘Hhat it’s either 
steady nerves or bite the grass, this time!” Ashe 
slowly rose from the side of the fire, he added : “All 
right ; t’ain’t the first time I’ve been there I At least 
they can’t have me for nothing!” 

Baumann experienced a sensation of peculiar 
interest as he followed his friend. All the romantic 
conception he had involuntarily associated with a 
trip across the plains now seemed on the eve of 
realization, and even at the thought of his mysteri- 
ous inamorata, whom he fancied to be following 
over the great prairie route, the contingency of a 
hazardous encounter with the Indians, seemed only 
to be a part of the romantic odor which had en- 
veloped the past few eventful weeks of his life. 
For his personal safety he had not the least appre- 
hension. 

He found Green and Wood, the wagon-boss, at 
the close of an important conversation, which ap- 
peared, however, to have led to no special conclu- 
sions, for the latter was just saying, with a shrug 
of the shoulders : 

“We have no choice, sir; yet that the men will do 
their duty is amply guaranteed by their sense of 
self-preservation!” 

The night passed without interruption, and the 
next morning the train resumed its journey as on 
the day preceding. The soldier took up with the 
mule drivers, and after a hearty breakfast seemed 


JOSE, 09 

completely over the effects of his two days of 
privation. 

“How far, think you, are we still from the fort?” 
asked Green, who with his friend was riding by the 
side of the wagon-boss. 

“At least a four-day journey, sir!” the addressed 
replied ; “ and if the soldier speaks the truth, that 
the tribes who inhabit this territory are gathered 
around the fort, we need have no fears of meeting 
them sooner. We shall soon be out of this hilly 
portion of the plains, however, and then be safe 
from surprise.” 

Several hours had elapsed. The wagon-boss had 
cantered back to the soldier, who was with the 
mule-drivers in the rear of the line, to put some 
necessary inquiries to him ; Green had struck up a 
conversation with Dutch Bill, and Baumann had 
alone ridden forward in advance of the train, when 
suddenly he descried a figure mounting the crest of 
the next swell with the fleetness of an antelope, 
repeatedly waving its arms toward the caravan, 
without, however, for an instant checking the speed 
with which it was approaching the train. Baumann 
did not long pause to subject the figure to an 
analytical scrutiny, but dashed back to bring the 
wagons to a stand-still. But scarcely had Green 
and Bill turned their eyes in that direction, when 
the latter, almost instinctively seized the leader by 
the bit with a heavy grip. 

“That’s Jose, or I hope to die 1” he cried,- in a tone 
of mingled joy and pain. 

The train instantly halted. 


100 


JosA 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE SURPRISE. 

The youth came toward them with the speed of a 
swallow, and Wood, noticing that the wagons had 
come to a halt, had just reached the head of the 
train, when he heard the former exclaim : 

“Halt! Get ready! The Indians!” 

For a moment the wagon-boss seemed disinclined 
to credit the evil news, but in another instant he 
received indubitable proof. On the crest of four or 
five elevations before him suddenly appeared a 
number of Indian horsemen who, after a momen- 
tary pause, as suddenly disappeared. Wood now 
instantly commanded the wagons to be formed into 
a park, but before the work was fully conipleted, 
troops of mounted Indians began to hurl themselves 
from the various elevations all around upon the 
wagons with such fury that had the attack been 
promptly carried out and with the same energy, the 
defenders of the train would hardly have had time 
to fire a shot. It seemed, however, that their chief 
purpose was to display the superiority of their num- 
bers, create a panic, and temporarily prevent the 
formation of the wagons into a defensive barricade. 
With fearful yells the leaders began to encircle the 
caravan, brandishing their lances or tomahawks, 
until the draught-animals reared wildly in their 
harness and the men seemed to have lost all control 
of them. It appeared only a matter of choice for 
the Indians, growing' ii numbers each moment, to 


JOSE. 101 

completely crush the small band of men that com- 
posed the crew. 

“Numbers one and two in the breach! Number 
one ready — number three behind the wagons,” com- 
manded the wagon-boss, his voice sounding above 
the turmoil, seeing that it was a hopeless attempt to 
close the corral, but satisfied to have temporarily at 
least secured the mules against a stampede. The 
men fiew hither and thither as if they had only 
waited for the word; the next moment they were 
ready at their posts, and from all sides their rifie 
barrels were now staring the Indians in the face. 

The redskins had evidently not counted upon such 
prompt resistance, for the hitherto active advance 
squad scattered and retired upon the main body, 
a portion of which now dismounted. 

“Attention at the wagons!” exclaimed Wood who 
had watched the maneuver; “aim sharp and shoot 
the first man that attempts to crawl up !” 

“So that they can massacre you all in the turn of 
a hand!” exclaimed a strange voice, and all ob- 
served “Old Bob,” stalking toward the barricade. 
It was impossible to tell whether he had just arisen 
out of the grass or had, unobserved, proceeded thus 
far from the direction of the Indians. “This is the 
consequence of rejecting good advice,” he con- 
tinued, approaching, seemingly without regard for 
the Indians in his rear. “If you had formed in the 
day time and rested, you could have defied almost 
any attack, while now one hasty shot is bound to 
send you all to your death. Just let me have a 
palaver with these redskins and see how matters 
stand!” 

A breathless silence prevailed in the train as one 
of the horsemen rode forth from the Indian line to 


102 


josk 


meet the hunter— the very animals, firmly pressed 
together one against another, seemed conscious of 
the significance of the coming moments. 

“What is the purpose of Black Bird with peaceful 
men who follow their business and who have never 
offended the red man?” Bob’s powerful voice was* 
now heard to exclaim. “Have you cause for com- 
plaint or have you dug up the hatchet to wield it 
against all white men?” 

The Indian shook his head with an air of im- 
patience. “ What would the old hunter that he 
speaks in such a tone?” he replied in fluent English. 
“If his heart has turned let him go back to his 
white brethren. The red man is hungry and his 
wigwams are empty because the great father of the 
whites has not kept his promise. The red man has 
waited long and has suffered, and there is no harm 
in taking what belongs to him !” 

“Tehohpee, I give you warning!” continued the 
old hunter, in a loud voice; “look well upon your 
path I The Comanches and Kiowas have never been 
like the wolves of the prairie that rob and plunder 
whatsoever comes in their way. They have stood 
high among their brethren. But as in the case of 
many a tribe of the red man that has been swept 
from the face of the earth, and whose scattered sons 
are wandering hither and thither without a home, 
fighting with the coyotes for their bread, and the 
lizards for a draught, with the curse of annihilation 
clinging to their footsteps — so the Evil Spirit of the 
plains is waiting anxiously for the time when he 
may seek his abode among those who are not yet in 
his power. Remember Fort Atkinson, Tehohpee, 
and beware! What is your wish? If the red man 
is hungrjr, let hint ask and he shall be f^d ; if he 


JOSK 


103 


needs clothes they shall he supplied ; hut pause be- 
fore it be too late, and do not compell me to turn my 
back upon you as upon a tribe that has passed into 
the power of the Evil Spirit!” 

The Indian sat upon his horse as motionless as a 
statue, until the other had finished. 

“We know that Iron-Fist’s heart has pity on his 
red brethren,” he began; “but we have not come to 
beg but to take what belongs to us, and there is no 
harm in that. Tell the white men that they may 
go, that they may take their animals and what they 
need to live upon ; we do not demand their lives. 
But hasten if you would prevent an accident ere it 
is too late!” he added, with a sharp glance at the 
train. 

The hunter was in the act of turning about to see 
what had attracted the Indian’s attention, when 
another horseman dafeMed forth from the Indian 
line and addressed Tehohpee in a series of quick, 
impatient words. The new-comer was wrapped in 
a dirty blue blanket. His head was decorated with 
the plumes of some bird of prey and across his back 
was slung a rifie. Tehohpee replied to the other 
with calm dignity, which seemed to evoke a new 
outburst of violence on the part of the latter. Old 
Bob, for a moment regarded the faces of the 
speakers with a searching expression ; then he said 
in an emphatic tone : 

“ Is it fair to ignore me in this conversation, or is 
the red man plotting an ambush, since he speaks in 
a strange tongue?” 

“It’s Spanish, Uncle Bob! The Apache under- 
stands no other language. I know the scoundrel!” 
suddenly exclaimed a clear voice that proceeded 
from the train, and before the hunter had time to 


104 


JOSE. 


turn his head, the graceful form of Jose, holding 
his light rifle in one hand, was by his side. This 
unexpected movement acted like an electric shock 
upon two members of the caravan. Green and 
Dutch Bill made an almost simultaneous motion to 
leave their lines, but as abruptly changed their 
minds, seeing the utter futility of such a course. 

“He insists on an immediate attack and the scalps 
of the crew for his warriors. Cowardly when alone, 
blood-thirsty plunderers when in the majority — 
that’s an Apache!” continued Jose, in a voice that 
sounded strangely distinct ; and with that the little 
fellow administered a tongue-lashing to the second 
Indian in Spanish, the purport of which Old Bob 
could not understand, but which was plainly evident 
from his flashing eyes, his trembling lips and his 
erect bearing. It could be seen that with each word 
the commotion among th^f^Indians halting in the 
rear was increasing. 

The Apache seemed at first dumfounded at the 
sight of the little fellow ; then his face contracted 
into a broad grin, which seemed almost fiendish 
under the high pigments to any one not accustomed 
to such a sight, and then began to ride around him 
in a circle as if to contemplate him from every side. 
Jose took a step forward, coolly following the looks 
of his adversary with his eyes. But scarcely had 
the horse, in describing the circle, turned his head 
toward the Indians, when the animal suddenly 
bolted forward ; the Apache stooped down quick as 
a flash, seized the boy with a powerful grasp and 
threw him across his horse’s back before him. 
Away shot the animal, greeted with a deafening 
yell of triumph from the Indians. At the same time 
two rifle reports were heard in the train— the horse 


JOSE. 


105 


broke down in the haunches ere he could reach the 
Indians, and his rider toppled over backward. The 
Indian yell changed into a howl; the Comanche 
chief galloped back — Old Bob cast a look at the 
caravan, ominously shook his head, tore the rifle 
from his back, and marched in long strides toward 
the Indians, now moving about in a state of wild 
confusion. The train crew could distinguish his 
giant stature for some moments, gesticulating and 
brandishing his double-barrel; an instant later he 
was concealed behind a troop of horse who detached 
themselves from the main body and came galloping 
over the plain with the speed of a whirlwind, their 
riders, with lances leveled, bent down to their 
horses’ necks, completely protecting them from the 
fire of the caravan. It seemed impossible to repel 
such a charge successfully. 

“Keep cool!” cried the wagon-boss, who had only 
regained his composure when the negotiations were 
interrupted. “Don’t fire before the word is given! 
Ready — fire !” 

The charging detachment had received fire at 
fifty paces, and at first sight the effect of the volley 
appeared to exceed all expectations of the defend- 
ers. The troop had been scattered as if by a stroke 
of lightning. Horses were rolling in mortal pain 
upon the grass; riders were slowly winding them- 
selves from under their fallen animals, and the re- 
mainder was charging back to the main body in a 
wide circle. But barely two hundred yards hence 
the fugitives were again closing up, and with a wild 
howl the troop came thundering down upon the 
train for the second time. “Second line— ready!” 
commanded Wood; but ere the assailants had come 
within as close range as the first time, the detach' 


106 


JOSE. 


ment suddenly divided, and a hail-storm of arrows 
and bullets came pouring in upon the defenders of 
the caravan as if the earth had vomited it forth, 
spreading disorder and consternation among them. 

“ Steady ! There they are — in the grass ! Steady 
aim— shoot anything that moves !” 

His own rifle spoke, and an Indian was for a mo* 
ment seen bounding into the air with convulsive 
movement. A fresh hail of bullets and arrows was 
the reply, and at the same time cries were heard. 

The Indians, abandoning their horses, had 
climbed, cat-like, upon the wagons, and brandish- 
ing their tomahawks with loud yells,, now dashed 
into the inclosure, while simultaneously a fresh 
troop of mounted redskins came sweeping down 
upon the barricade from without, cutting off every 
hope of escape for the whites. 

That night, scalpless bodies of the muleteers and 
drivers connected with the train, ruined wagons 
turned upside down, and large quantities of mer- 
chandise scattered the plains, and marked the spot 
where one of the worst massacres that has been 
recorded in the history of the Santa Fe trail, had 
taken place. 


JOSJE, 


107 


CHAPTE*R VIIL 

A NEW MEXICAN FORT. 

In the very vastness of the south-eastern promon- 
tories of the Rocky Mountains lies a broad and far- 
stretching valley, through which the little Moor 
carries its clear waters to the Canadian River ; and 
here are combined whatever amenities nature has 
created in the vast desert through which the Santa 
Fe trail extends ; so that the traveler who emerges 
from the savage and deserted sandstone valleys and 
the fierce mountain regions along the Ocate and 
Canadian Rivers, gazes in a transport of delight 
upon the fresh green carpet, dotted with darker 
groups of trees, which covers the plain ; the acres 
of cultivated corn-fields that intersperse it at inter- 
vals, and the artificial irrigating canals that form 
the first returning evidences of the ingenious hand 
of civilization. 

A short distance west of the trail a small stream 
converges with the Moor, and here, at the time of 
the incidents related in this story, stood a large 
square building, surrounded by cultivated fields and 
meadows dotted with fiocks of sheep. The building 
consisted of a main wing, whose exterior presented 
but one row of small windows in the upper story 
and a solid gate for the entrance ; two side wings 
joining it at right angles — like the other, supplied 
with but few windows near the roof — and a strong, 
high wall, which connected the two side wings and 
completed the square. Even from the court-yard 
th^ basement derived its light from narrow open- 


108 


JOSR 


ings above the ground, while the • upper story on 
this side was lighted by a series of appropriate 
windows. The entire structure was built of adobe, 
upon which the seldom recurring rains appeared to 
have made no impression, and was covered with a 
flat roof, from the corners of the main wing of 
which two small howitzers gazed into the world 
with a persistent menace. The basement of the 
main building served as a storehouse for utensils 
and supplies, while the lower part of one of the 
side wings was used as a granary, and the other as 
stables and sheds. The upper portion of the main 
building was tenanted by the proprietor and his 
family; the side wings by the numerous laborers 
and domestics. 

This was Fort McGregor, as it was built some 
years before by the man whose name it bore and 
promoted to a most valuable estate — granting that 
in this solitude, but a degree behind a solitary island 
in the sea, and surrounded by a horde of wild 
Indians, there could be a consideration of value. 

It was now a 3"ear ago that the founder died, 
leaving it as a legacy to an only son. At the same 
time of McGregor’s demise this son was absent in 
the then newly discovered gold regions of Cali- 
fornia, and returned two months after his father’s 
burial, not with a fortune in his pocket, but with a 
head full of ingenuity and enterprise, which prom- 
ised, agreeable to his predictions, a hundredfold 
enlargement of the former value of the wide-spread 
estate. He returned home, accompanied by an 
elderly gentleman, who, from his looks, appeared to 
be a New Englander. On their arrival they imme- 
diately proceeded to make an inspection of the 
estate, aird then, with the assist^^nce of the wen 


JOsA 


109 


about the place, began a series of surveys and 
measurements. The overseer of the improvements 
on the property was an old Scotchman, named Mc- 
Allister, under whose supervision the servants, 
Mexicans and half-breeds, were wont to perform 
their duties; whose relations to the original pro- 
prietor, however, had been more those of a friend 
and adviser than of an employee ; and it is safe to 
presume that for the first time in his experience he 
now became a witness of operations whose purport 
and tendency he was at a loss to surmise. 

Four weeks possibly had elapsed since the arrival 
of young McGregor and his companion, when both 
prepared to take their departure; but it was not 
until the night preceding the day set that the 
former deigned to honor the trusty old overseer 
with an explanation. 

They met apparently by accident at an inspection 
of supplies. McGregor placed the other’s arm in 
his and conducted him with a few words to an 
upper room. 

“ Sit down, sir ; light a fresh cigar, and let us chat 
a while,” he said, arrived here, casting himself into 
one of the chimney chairs, the handiwork of some 
of the men of all trades about the establishment. 
“You were my father’s best friend, McAllister,” he 
continued, when the old Scotchman had silently 
obeyed his instructions, with his eyes fastened ex- 
pectantly on the face of the young proprietor, “ and 
1 hope that you will permit me to continue to enjoy 
the advantage of your experience ; but it is impossi- 
ble for me to continue this life of solitary confine- 
ment like my father who buried himself here for 
goodness knows what peculiar reasons of his own. 
Possibly you do not approve my ideas, but you will 


110 


JOSE. 


make allowance for the difference in my habits and 
inclinations; besides two generations may live and 
die here before our magnificent estate is likely to 
increase one dollar in value, despite its rich soil and 
accessible location on the Santa Fe trail — unless, in- 
deed, this neighborhood can be made an object of 
speculation. In short, not to mince matters, I in- 
tend to found a town here. We have building stone 
and timber near at hand, an inexhaustible supply 
of water, a splendid valley with a rich soil, and a 
location which offers every inducement for rapid 
settlement. As Mr. Brown, who returned with me 
from California, has considerable standing with 
Eastern capitalists, I have no doubt that it will be 
an easy matter to organize a syndicate which will 
advance the necessary capital to assure the success 
of our enterprise ; but whatever the issue may be, 
we at least have nothing to lose. It will attract 
people to this valley, and the ground will increase 
tenfold in value from the very start.” 

He paused and looked expectantly at the old 
overseer, who rocked his head with a grave motion. 

“ Many things are desirable if they can be accom- 
plished,” he began after a short silence. “The 
antelope might roam the mountains undisturbed if 
it were not for the cougar, and the white man 
would not have need of the walls of a fortress if the 
redskins were not his sworn foe. How an open 
town can be formed where the Apache lies in am- 
bush for every unprotected wayfarer is more than 
my old head can fathom.” 

“We shall find ways to protect ourselves, Mc- 
Allister,” eagerly replied the young man; “the best 
way to muzzle the Indians is to spread civilization 


JOSE, 


111 


around them. All American settlements have had 
the same obstacles to overcome.” 

The old man merely shrugged his shoulders. 

“Very well, we will not quarrel about it,” con- 
tinued the other. “ I have told you my plan, and 
you will know what detains me in the East for the 
next three months. 

“ I shall leave, to-morrow, going first to Santa Fe 
to send back some men to fit up the rooms in a 
manner suitable for a civilized being. I conceive it 
to be my duty to set an example to the prospective 
population of the valley by founding a family. 
When my friend and myself return we will be ac- 
companied by his daughter, a young lady of culture 
and refinement. You will oblige me by selecting 
one of our nicest girls to act as maid. She can 
assist Hattie in the management of the house till 
my return. You, my dear friend, will continue in 
charge of the estate, and I trust you will be as faith- 
ful to me as you were to my father.” 

He offered his hand to the overseer, who accepted 
it slowly. 

“I shall do my duty, sir,” he said, “but whether 
my old head will be of service to you under such 
changed circumstances or not, I shall leave for you 
to decide.” 

With that the conversation ended, and early the 
following morning young McGregor and his friend 
departed. 

Three months passed away before the two men, 
and a very pretty young lady, arrived at the fort. 
The master's instructions regarding the furnishings 
of the rooms had been carried out in every particu- 
lar. The walls of three of the rooms had been 
stained in a delicate color, the floor covered with 


112 


JOSK 


straw matting, and the whole house supplied with 
the necessary comforts in the way of modern furni- 
ture and other conveniences. Hattie, the house- 
keeper, who like McAllister had come West with 
the family, was ready to receive the young girl, but 
the latter appeared ill at ease, and asked permission 
to retire in order to enjoy a much-needed rest, and 
slightly nodding to her two companions, she fol- 
lowed the maid to her room. Having barely en- 
tered, she dismissed the housekeeper as well as the 
maid selected to wait upon her, and locking the 
door, cast herself into an arm-chair. Here she sat 
for some time, motionless and with closed eyes. 
Then a shudder seemed to creep over her whole 
body; she opened her eyes, swept a weary look 
around the room and slowly arose. How for the 
first time she divested herself of her traveling cloak, 
and approached the window. The view was of the 
court-yard, and necessarily circumscribed. The side 
wing, of the same sodden color as the trampled 
earth, with its narrow, clouded windows and the 
junction wall, presented anything but a pleasing 
aspect, and seemed almost like a prison. The young 
lady stepped back from the window and pressed her 
hand upon her eyes. Then her glance fell upon a 
door opposite the window. This she approached, 
and, as if to assure herself of her surroundings, 
opened. She looked into a small apartment which 
appeared to have been fitted out for her maid. The 
solitary little window by which the room was 
scantily lighted, cast an oppressive feeling upon 
her spirits. She looked through the panes ; stretched 
out before her, bathed in the golden light of the 
setting sun, lay the wide, attractive landscape that 
surrounded the fort. But from the blue outlines of 


JOSK 


113 


the mountains, on one side, to the point where the 
plain terminated in a towering forest, on the other, 
no lining object appeared to gladden the view. The 
voiceless silence and inanimate condition of the 
desert seemed to have extended its influence, too, 
over this oasis. 

With a deep, audible sigh, the young lad}'^ re- 
turned to the first room, crossed and re-crossed 
repeatedly in a deep study, and then, as if by a 
superior effort, began to unpack her trunk. A soft 
knock interrupted her, and as the door opened it 
disclosed the wrinkled face of the old housekeeper. 

“ I came merely to give you a light, in case you 
wish to be left alone to-night,” she said; ‘‘and to 
ask if I may not serve you with something to 
strengthen and refresh you. ITl wager you haven’t 
had a square meal for a long time.” 

“Come in,” said the young lady, who now for the 
first time remarked the expression of motherly 
benevolence on the old lady’s face. 

The housekeeper entered, with a slight nod of the 
head and with a degree of alacrity as if she had 
only been waiting for an invitation, deposited 
hr candlesticks on the shelf over the grate, and 
then assumed an attitude as if waiting to be 
addressed. 

“Be seated, I pray you— you are the housekeeper, 
I suppose?” began the former, slowly resuming her 
seat in the arm-chair. 

“Hattie— your servant, ma’am,” answered the 
other, taking a chair with a perceptible manifesta- 
tion of pleasure, “ I raised the young master after 
his mother’s death, and shared the family’s joys 
and sorrows, and came out here with them among 


114 JOSE. 

the Indians, where the old gentleman found his last 
rest.” 

The girl gazed down at her feet for some time. 

“Tell me, Hattie,” she began at last; “how do you 
contrive to live here, or rather how can people make 
up their minds to immure themselves in this soli- 
tude, without feeling a strong desire to die? I fan- 
cied I had a pretty good conception of what I might 
expect, when I set out on my journey here, but 
never realized until we began to cross the plains 
and the same, interminable desert stretched out 
around us day after day, how completely isolated 
from all the world they must be who make their 
home here.” 

The housekeeper regarded the young lady with a 
look of infinite sympathy. 

“You are about right, miss,” she replied; “about 
right ! Tell me your name.” 

“Mary Brown. You surely know my father.” 

The old woman nodded in a manner which indi- 
cated that she was now intelligently informed on 
all matters. 

“I felt just as you do when I first came here; 
when the Indians gave us trouble every day, and 
finally when matters improved, the young gentle- 
man, for whom I always had a sort of motherly 
feeling, left us to go to California,” she continued ; 
“but goodness knows ! one gets accustomed to many 
things, and how much easier it will be for you. Miss 
Mary, since you are surrounded by all that is dear 
to you.” 

The young lady looked up as if to speak, but 
checked herself. 

“ What do you mean by saying, ‘all that is dear to 
me?’ ” she asked after a pause, gazing at the floor. 


ns 


josA 

“Well, isn’t your father here, and ” replied the 

housekeeper, with a touch of embarrassment, “ is it 
not true that you are soon to become our young 
mistress? McAllister — that is the superintendent, 
and, like me, a fraction of the McGregors — was 
quite positive about it, and has been telling the 
servants so much about the elegance and beauty of 
their future mistress that they are ready to break 
their necks to get a glimpse of you.” 

Mary slowly lowered her head in her hands. 

“I shall see you again, Hattie,” she said after a 
pause; “but for the present I beg you to regard me 
simply a guest of the house. I came here to please 
my father. I never saw Mr. McGregor until I met 
him on the way — that is all there is between us — 
and I am ill prepared to decide so soon whether I 
shall ever be able to make up my mind to stay here. 
Please accept what I have said as a token of my 
confidence, Hattie, and do not repeat it.” 

She gave the housekeeper her hand, which the 
latter seized with an intelligent nod of the head, 
and arose from her seat. 

“And can’t I serve you with anything this even- 
ing?” she asked. 

“ I think it will be best for me to retire early, so 
that to-morrow I may be fully prepared to appre- 
ciate your tender solicitude,” replied the young 
lady, with an effort at a smile. 

The old lady retired from the room with a “thank 
you, Miss Mary.” 

In the opposite corner-room of the main wing, 
young McGregor and his companion. Brown, had 
just completed a hearty repast ; and stretched out 
upon a chair, which he had tilted back, the former 
was blowing clouds of smoke into the air from his 


116 


JOSE. 


* cigar, while the latter was pensively picking a piece 
of bread into crumbs, and dropping the fragments 
into a water tumbler on the table before him. 

“What do you think of Miss Mary’s peculiar 
action, and what do you advise me to do?” asked 
the young man, pursuing the current of the conver- 
sation. 

The other abruptly straightened up and passed 
his hand through his hair. 

“I have no opinion on the subject, and cannot 
advise you!” he replied; “these things will arrange 
themselves of their own accord, and all that is 
necessary is to give the girl a little rest and time to 
collect herself. It is barely a month since you were 
first introduced, and since that time we have hardly 
had a moment’s rest. In this place she will^ soon 
learn to give your society the preference — only give 
her time.” 

McGregor gave a vigorous puff at his cigar, and 
allowed the chair to assume its normal posture. “ I 
must confess that I do not quite share your con- 
fidence. There is something on her mind that I 
cannot explain. When we called for her in Boston, 
her conduct toward me was wholly unconstrained, 
although she must have guessed my intentions 
toward her. Then followed that episode in Missis- 
sippi, and from the moment that I found her again 
at the hotel in Vicksburg, I date her charige of 
manner. If it were not for the short time of our 
separation, I should ascribe the difference to some 
event that had completely alienated her affection 
from me. As it is, I am groping wholly in the 
dark, conscious of an effect whose cause is a mys- 
tery.” 

Brown shook his head with a forced smile. 


JOSE. 


117 


‘‘A lover who finds that his sweetheart is not 
absolutely complacent to his desires, is apt to have 
strange fancies. You know the contract, and must 
be aware that I am just as anxious to see the mar- 
riage consummated as you are ; I give you my word 
that the matter will be satisfactorily arranged with- 
in a week, and I advise you to show no anxiety 
that might unduly precipitate matters. Leave the 
business to me, and everything will end well.” 

“I hope so, sir,” said the young proprietor, rising 
with a suppressed sigh, and going to the window. 

It was the next day. Mary had not made her 
appearance at the breakfast-table, but accepted Mc- 
Gregor’s invitation to ride, which he sent her, 
through a servant. 

Three fiery Mexican horses stood, ready saddled, 
in the court-yard, and a bright look emanated from 
the girl’s eyes as she approached the little animal 
selected for her, stroked its neck and forehead, and 
bounded into the saddle without assistance. Mc- 
Gregor and her father were quickly at her side, and 
as they passed out of the open gate-way they were 
followed by four mounted Mexican servants, heavily 
armed. Mary saw them as, animated by the fresh 
morning air, she swept a glance over the valley, 
and was slightly alarmed. 

“Is there danger so near to the house?” she said, 
turning to McGregor, who had scarcely taken his 
eyes from her lovely face, and had involuntarily 
followed the direction of her eyes. 

“ It is natural that we should be doubly solicitous 
where the safety of such a treasure is concerned,” 
he replied, bowing with a faint smile; “but to be 
candid, this measure of increased security is only 
temporarily necessary. There was formerly about 


118 


JOSE, 


here, a half-breed Indian, a sort of chief among the 
Apaches that live hereabouts, who had all the vices 
but none of the virtues of the red man, and v^e had 
a great deal to suffer from him and his tribe, in the 
way of depredations upon our herds, until one day 
he fell into the hands of our men. My father always 
pursued the policy of living with the redskins on 
the best possible footing, and so he allowed the 
rascal to go when he had promised to leave the 
neighborhood and join the northern Apaches; and 
in order to convert an enemy into a friend, my 
father promised him an annual present of ammuni- 
tion, tobacco and coffee, for himself, as well as for 
several of his most prominent warriors, so long as 
the depredations were not repeated. From that 
time forth we lived on a comparative peaceful foot- 
ing until I took charge of the property and can- 
celed the arrangement as an unwarrantable tribute. 
We remained unmolested notwithstanding, and only 
on my arrival yesterday, I was apprised that the 
half-breed has either returned or is soon expected 
by his tribe — evidently with no good intentions 
toward us. I hope, however, to get him into my 
hands at the first offense; and then, I think, he will 
trouble us no more.” 

The young lady had silently listened to the ex- 
planation of her companion, and now urged her 
pony into a quicker gait. 

“ Are you, then, really so timid. Miss Mary, that a 
possibly unnecessary act of precaution is able to 
cloud your enjoyment of our verdant landscape, 
and this invigorating morning?” resumed McGregor, 
causing his horse to keep pace with hers, while 
Brown checked his animal and followed the couple 
at some distance in the rear, “ I almost came to 


JOsA 119 

look upon you as a heroine since that Mississippi 
j episode!” 

“ Sir, it is my opinion that even v^ith a courageous 
woman, certain conditions are necessary to impel 
her to become a heroine!” she replied, gazing into 
the distance. 

“Conditions? What kind, for example?” he asked, 
in a lively tone. 

“ Conditions, to be sure ! for a woman who courts 
dangers from mere inclination is an abnormity,” 
she replied, with a scornful laugh. “Either the 
ability of resistance is aroused by the necessity of 
self-reliance, or a woman's heart must be filled by 
emotions so strong and deep, that they outweigh 
the natural apprehension of visible dangers.” 

McGregor rested a long look upon the clear, calm 
features of his companion. 

“And if I were to ask, Mary, whether there be 
nothing here which could possibly counterbalance 
in your heart the shadowy sides of my home,” he 
said, subduing his voice, and pressing his horse 
closer to hers; “what would you say?” 

“Mercy,” she cried, laughing in her former man- 
ner, while a soft blush colored her face; “how am I 
to judge your home well enough to know all its 
lights and shades, when I have been here only one 
night?” 

The young man’s face showed traces of anger, 
which disappeared, however, as quickly as they had 
arisen. 

“I wish,” he said, after a short pause ; “you would 
not resort to the commonplace expedients of little 
coquettes, by pretending not to understand what is 
perfectly plain, but to answer a direct question as 
frankly and sincerely as it deserves, I desire an 


120 


JOS± 


understanding, Mary,” he continued, after drawing 
a long breath. “You are aware that your father 
intends to make this his place of permanent abode ; 
you must have guessed with what sentiments I con- 
fronted you in his society, and with what hopes 
your ready assent to share our solitude here inspired 
me. Now, after a long journey, which should have 
served to bring us into closer communion, we have 
arrived, and you are more of a stranger to me than 
on the day of our first meeting.” 

“And does not that sufficiently answer your ques- 
tion, Mr. McGregor?” said the young lady, slowly 
turning her serious countenance upon him. 

He gazed at her a moment, as if he could not at 
once grasp the meaning of her words. 

“You say that so calmly and coldly. Miss Mary,” 
he said, at last, while his eyes seemed intent on 
reading her inmost thoughts; “you do not even 
leave me room to hope that the future may grant 
what I am denied to-day. I did not propose to 
hasten your decision ; I only hoped to catch some 
word of encouragement to cherish in my soul, to 
support me in the coming struggle, to nurse my 
hope until the future might decree a kindlier ver- 
dict ” 

“You insisted upon a frank decision, sir!” she 
said, interrupting him, and again fixing her gaze 
on space, without a sign of emotion; “I have no 
right to base expectations upon future contingencies 
for which the conditions do not exist in the present.” 

McGregor stared at her fixedly a moment, then 
seized his bridle, and the next instant gave his 
horse a cut that caused him to make a sudden leap, 
and dash away at the top of his speed. 

Mary watched McGregor as he sought to curb th© 


JOSK 


121 


animaFs spirit, and finally reduce it to his control. 
- McGregor, with his sharp but regular features 
framed in a heavy beard, with the energy and 
decision which marked all his movements, was a 
man calculated to command attention anywhere; 
and an expression of silent pity began to be visible 
upon the girl’s face. She brought down the riding- 
whip upon her horse’s fiank, and dashed forward to 
overtake him. 

“You are displeased. Mr. McGregor,” she began, 
when the horses were again side by side. The 
young Scotchman was gloomily looking down at his 
bridle. “Why should we not be friends, without 
attempting to create a relationship which neces- 
sarily backs the most essential ground- work?” 

McGregor could only shake his head in gloomy 
silence. 

“ Or do you wish that we shall dwell here like two 
persons who have mortally offended each other, 
until such a relationship shall become mutually 
abhorrent — and all because of your selfishness?” 

The young man made an impatient movement. 

“It is a very easy matter to preach philosophy, 
with a cold heart and cool blood,” he replied, raising 
his head with a bitter smile; “unfortunately, my 
education was neglected in that respect. Let us 
drop the subject for the present.” 

They had reached the river, and for some time 
pursued the level shore of the stream in silence ; 
McGregor inspecting every feature of his surround- 
ings with contracted brows, while Mary’s gaze was 
pensively fixed upon the distant hills. The young 
man drew rein when, a short distance ahead, they 
descried the mouth of a dark ravine, the outpost of 
a dense pine forest, , 


122 JOSi. 

“ I think we had better not continue in this direc- 
tion,” he said. “If you desire to extend your ride, 
the ground on the opposite side is more desirable, 
and nearer the fort.” 

“ I shall place you under no further sacrifices of 
time, Mr. McGregor, and shall be glad to return to 
the house, if you prefer,” replied Mary, turning her 
horse. 

“As you please,” said the young man, with a nod; 
and both rode back over their former route in 
silence. 

They were soon met by the escort, and by Brown, 
who, evidently in high spirits, was listening to the 
recital of one of the horsemen. 

“ I declare, those are great deeds that have been 
performed here, and that are still in contempla- 
tion!” he laughingly exclaimed, with his face 
directed toward the returning couple ; but when he 
had given a second look at their faces, his brow 
contracted into the semblance of a frown. 

“Anything new or important?” McGregor asked, 
addressing one of the men, as if to evade Brown’s 
look. 

“We were only speaking of the half-breed whom 
they call Metopah, the Strong Bear!” was the reply; 
“the old squaw who comes begging about the fort, 
now and then, said last evening, that he would 
probably turn up with the dark nights of the new 
moon.” 

“None of the red tribe must be admitted to the 
fort hereafter, unless we want all our plans dis- 
covered beforehand,” said the young man; “an 
Indian can smell things that no one else would 
dream of!” 

As if now relieved of ^11 fprtber obligations, he 


josk 


123 


turned his horse toward the building. Mary, how- 
ever, again rode her pony alongside, and after a 
pause, said: 

“Have you considered, sir, what a life we shall 
lead in our narrow circle, if you persist in keeping 
up your present temper?” 

He gazed down before him without making a 
reply. 

“ I trust you will believe me, sir, when I say,” she 
continued ; “that there can be little in this solitude 
to compensate me, somewhat spoiled as I am, for 
the many sacrifices I endured in quitting the social 
world. Nevertheless, I promise you that my face 
shall manifest no evidence of my true feelings, if 
you will agree to exhibit the same fortitude in re- 
gard to your one disappointed hope.” 

He slowly raised his face to a level with hers. 

“Your words are very sensible. Miss Mary,” he 
replied ; “ but there are many things which defy the 
art of reason, and I am not one of those who can 
laugh with an aching heart. On the other hand, 
you must not think,” he continued, with a sudden 
dark glow of his eyes; “that a McGregor suffers his 
life’s hope to be baffled by a single word. I own I 
am fascinated by the coolness with which you so 
deliberately reason matters with me— I have no 
inclination to drop the contest for your heart, for I 
am sure that your choice will be worthy of you; but 
I will not beg for it with languishing sighs like your 
young gentlemen in the East ; I have revealed my 
feelings to you without disguise. Let events now 
take their course; I would not have you commit 
yourself to any promises; but this much let me say, 
that should I ever be permitted to press you resist- 
lessly to my heart, you will never have cause to 


124 


JOSE. 


look back upon that moment with sentiments other 
than of genuine gratification.” 

He dashed away as if to conceal the emotion that 
had manifested itself in his speech in the closing 
sentence, while Mary, her dark brows contracted as 
if overcome by a somber omen, slowly followed 
him. 

‘‘You seem to have had a pretty animated inter- 
view,” Brown remarked, riding up alongside of his 
daughter; and on looking around, her glance en- 
countered a look from her father, whose searching 
intensity almost gave her pain. 

“ So animated and straightforward, indeed, that I 
suppose I shall have to learn to accustom myself to 
it, as to many other things in this place,” she said, 
averting her face. 

Brown seemed anxious to put a question to her, 
but changed his mind after a short, searching look. 

They reached the fort, after a brief ride over the 
grass-covered prairie, where McGregor was await- 
ing them. He seized the pony’s bridle with the 
left, while he presented his right hand to the young 
equestrienne as a support for her foot. She en- 
countered his look with a firm expression, and ac- 
cepted the proffered assistance, without for a 
moment losing her composure. Then she turned 
toward the dark stair-way, where the venerable 
housekeeper was awaiting her, and quickly dis- 
appeared in her room. 

“Did you have a pleasant ride?” the housekeeper 
asked, following her. “I was just going to give the 
maid some instructions in her duties, so that she 
can be useful to you in time to come. ’Tisn’t really 
so disagreeable hereabouts, now, is it? Even the 
fear of the Indians has this advantage that it in- 


J08E. 125 

stills some occasional excitement into the routine 
of life!” 

“ I think one should get accustomed to wait upon 
oneself as much as possible,” said Mary, rejecting 
the offered assistance of the maid, who seemed to 
have been engaged in putting the room in order as 
she divested herself of her riding-habit. 

“Take a seat, Hattie, if you have time, and let us 
chat a while.” 

The old housekeeper nodded approvingly, and did 
as she was requested. 

“I always have a few minutes of spare time,” she 
said, watching the dextrous manner in which the 
young lady arranged her toilet. 

“ Are we really so far from all human habitation 
as it appears?” asked Mary. 

“Well, miss, there’s a village or town, or what- 
ever you are pleased to call it, about fifteen miles 
up the river, where there is a station of the Santa 
Fe stage line, and that is the direction from which 
you reached the forfc. There is nothing there, how- 
ever, except a dozen or fifteen cabins built of clay, 
each with a solitary opening for a window, besides 
two or three Yankee haberdashers who do trading 
with a small stock of goods, and make a good deal 
of money. Their houses are the only ones that are 
a trifle better than pig-pens. I was there twice, but 
that was enough to surfeit me of the ragged Mexi- 
cans and the rest of the community.” 

Mary had seated herself in her easy chair, lightly 
supporting her head in her hand. 

“Then there is a post-station within reach, at all 
events,” she said, thoughtfully; “you know when 
the stage passes through there, so that I may govern 
myself by it in case I should wish to let some news 


m J08K 

of me reach my friends in the civilized world at 
any time?” 

“ All I know is what McAllister said, when he ex- 
pected the young master’s return,” replied the 
housekeeper, inclining her head to one side as if to 
refresh her memory. ‘‘Let me see; the coach for 
Santa Fe passes one day, and two weeks later, it 
comes back on its way to Missouri, and so on regu- 
larly every month.” 

The young lady for some minutes seemed en- 
grossed in thought. Then she said, raising her head 
with a smile : 

“Well, Hattie, the ride in the open air seems to 
have benefited me, and I hope to do justice to your 
repast. When I shall have become better ac- 
quainted with the surroundings I hope to be able 
to undertake an occasional excursion without arous- 
ing half the men in the fort.” 

“I dare say you are not afraid to risk it even 
when there’s danger from the Indians, though I 
hardly think they will let you try it,” exclaimed the 
old lady, with a good-natured laugh; “but I’m glad 
you reminded me of the dinner, for I should have 
chatted here for an hour to come!” She arose. 
“The maid is always at hand, and you have only to 
call her if you need anything,” she said, and with a 
nod of the head, left the room. 


JOSE. 


127 


CHAPTER IX. 

A STRANGE WOOING. 

Mary slowly arose, opened the door that led to 
her servant’s room, and stepped to the little window. 
Before her lay the wide, sunny space through which 
she had ridden. Willow bushes and towering cotton- 
wood trees marked the course of the river, whose 
limpid mountain waters ran deep in their channel, 
invisible save at close proximity. Mary carefully 
noted its winding course until lost at last among 
the foot hills, some miles away. 

Thoughtfully she returned to her room ; but she 
had barely resumed her seat when a knock at the 
door interrupted her reflections. 

The door opened at her invitation, and her father 
appeared. The girl arose with a manifestation of 
mingled surprise and alarm, on recognizing her 
visitor. 

“Keep your seat, Mary,” said Mr. Brown, closing 
the door after him and casting a quick glance 
around the room. “ I came to have a little talk with 
you. Are we alone?” , 

“There is no one here, nor in the next room,” re- 
plied Mary, slowly resuming her seat, and awaiting 
the opening of the conversation with evident ex- 
pectancy. 

He sat down, for a moment covering his forehead 
with his hand. 

“I must have a confidential chat with you, child,” 
he began, raising his eyes to hers with a show of 
gravity which she had never before seen in her 


128 


JOSE. 


father's face; ‘^and I have postponed it until the 
present, because I hoped you would spare me the 
necessity. You are aware, Mary,” he continued, 
folding his hands between his knees; “that I have 
done all that a father could do for your education. 
The little patrimony which you inherited from your 
mother is safely and comfortably invested. I have 
myself paid all your expenses in the best eastern 
seminaries, although often embarrassed to know 
whence to derive the were withal for my own sub- 
sistence. I did not hesitate to face the discomforts 
of the wilderness of California, in order to leave no 
means untried to re-establish our fortune; and 
though, as in the case of many others, fortune did 
not choose to perch upon my banners, it opened the 
way to a speculation which will ultimately yield a 
tenfold value of all we have lost in the past. I have 
associated myself with our friend, McGregor, to lay 
out the surrounding valley as a large mercantile 
colony, to attract immigration, and make it that for 
which nature obviously designed it. I have already 
succeeded, with little difficulty, in organizing a 
company of eastern capitalists for this purpose, and 
in the coming spring we intend to begin operations. 
I shall enter the syndicate as an equal share-holder 
in the property ; and it is thus I find at my disposal 
every condition which, as a shrewd business man, 
enables me to make up for all former losses, and 
sacrifices — that is, as soon as McGregor’s interests 
and my own are consolidated by a natural tie of 
affinity, and my rights become the inheritance of 
my grandchildren. I did not choose to enter posi- 
tively into the latter clause,” he continued; “until I 
had introduced McGregor to you, until your mani- 
fest interest in him, your readiness to brave the dis- 


JOSE. 


129 


comforts of the plains, justified me in counting upon 
your voluntary consent to the principal condition of 
our agreement; but just now,” he resumed, after 
taking a deep breath ; “ I learned the import of a 
conversation between you and McGregor, which 
puts an abrupt end to our mutual expectations. 
Let me finish, child,” he continued, pressing his 
hand upon his eyelids, as Mary made an effort to 
speak. “ I am a pauper, an absolute pauper ; I have 
invested my last dollar in the preliminary expenses 
of this enterprise, for which successful consumma- 
tion I still believed my old head to possess the 
necessary energy. If I abandon it I abandon the 
last hope of my life, and shall be compelled to find 
a precarious existence in the field in which other 
people, with the employment of my ideas, will ac- 
cumulate a fortune by a turn of the hand. Now let 
me ask you : What has so suddenly caused you to 
change your views, and does it justify you in sacri- 
ficing the happinses of your father’s declining age, 
the ardent hopes of an excellent gentleman, and 
your own comfort?” 

Mary sat staring at the floor, with pale, immova- 
ble features. 

“There is something unnatural,” she began, after 
a pause, “in the idea of purchasing what a father 
calls his happiness, at the expense of the bitterest 
sacrifice of his child. I will do all that is in my 
power, father,” she continued, raising her eyes. 
“Take all I have. I owe it to you, and it may assist 
you to re-establish yourself. I will work and care 
for you ; I will even continue to remain with you in 
this desert, if you desire it, and not complain ; but 
do not interfere with my happiness— leave me the 
only right vouchsafed to a woman’s heart; to say 


130 


JOSK 


no ! where she feels impelled to say it. I have en- 
couraged no hopes whose non-fulfillment can be laid 
at my door. I simply treated with common civility, 
a gentleman who was your companion ; I followed 
you into the wilderness because it was my filial 
duty, and I revolt at the thought that a father’s 
happiness can be bought at the price of a daughter’s 
misery.” 

Brown arose, and paced the room. 

“Will you tell me,” he began at last, coming to a 
standstill; “why you object to a gentleman who 
even in the East, wherever he appeared, commanded 
respectful attention?” 

“Nothing, father, except that he is to be my hus- 
band,” she replied, with deep earnestness. “For 
the sake of love, a woman may give up every com- 
fort of civilized society, and find ample reward ; but 
if a loveless marriage is in itself something degrad- 
ing to a woman’s heart, where punishment is its 
utter desolation even in the midst of a crowded 
city, where shall a woman, in a solitude like this, 
find that inner comfort and courage which is to 
support her in her self-denial and to sustain her 
rectitude? Bid me for your sake to renounce all the 
world, father, and I shall be satisfied, but do not 
force a husband upon me. The mere thought fills 
me with horror.” 

“Moonshine!” growled the old man, resuming his 
walk. “What will become of you,” he continued, 
after a while, pausing; “when in consequence of 
your refusal I shall fill the subordinate places of a 
clerk, since my contract compells me to remain 
here ; when I shall no longer be in a condition to 
maintain you in the position which you are accus- 
tomed to occupy?” 


JOSK 


131 


“I shall stay with you, father, as long as I can 
contribute to your comfort,” she replied, her face 
brightening. “I have learned many things that 
must be useful here, and I am sure I shall find some 
sort of useful work!” 

Brown continued to pace the room, in moody 
silence, for several minutes. 

“You scorn the road that would have led us both 
straight to fortune,” he finally resumed “For the 
sake of a romantic, girlish notion, you prefer to 
take the dark path whereby our steps are indis- 
tinguishable — may you never regret it for my sake 
and yours,” he added, with a half sigh, as with 
drooping head he left the room. 

Mary watched her father till he disappeared, and 
sat gazing at the door long after it had been closed, 
until at last she lowered her head in her hand, and 
became lost in thought. 

The dinner bell resounded through the house, but 
she did not hear it. The door of her room was 
opened, without attracting her notice ; and not until 
a masculine voice smote upon her ear, did she start 
up, to confront McGregor. 

“Pardon me, dear Mary,” he said, with a strange 
smile ; “ I knocked twice without receiving a reply, 
and so I was compelled to extend my own permis- 
sion to enter.” 

The girl had quickly risen to her feet, and her 
eyes flushed an indignant protest at the intruder. 

“ Is it the custom here to enter a lady’s room with- 
out the least formality?” she asked, forcing her 
voice to sound calm. 

He shook his head with his former smile. 

“ It may not be in strict conformity with polite 
usage, but here on the plains we do not scrutinize 


132 


JOSK 


matters with such nicety — nor should you insist 
upon it, Mary,” he said, without observing the ex- 
pression of surprise which his easy, familiar manner 
of address had called to the face of the young lady. 
“ As Hattie has her hands so full of work at meal 
times, I thought I would escort you to our dining- 
room, and perhaps have a few words with you be- 
fore going. Pray, let us be seated a few moments, 
Mary.” 

“You certainly have rights in this house, which I 
as a guest cannot dispute,” she retorted, with a 
touch of bitterness, raising her head. 

“Then why so ill-favored? Have I ever said an 
unkind word to you?” asked McGregor, as he drew 
the chair Brown had just left, closer to him. “ Do 
you call it polite to deny me the right to speak?” 

A nervous twitching around the young girPs 
mouth portended a harsh reply, but she repressed it. 

“I cannot forbid you speaking,” she said, taking 
her seat. 

He sat down without appearing to notice her cold- 
ness. 

“Your father has told me what passed between 
you,” he began, in an indifferent tone. It was only 
what I anticipated, after what you said to me. 
Your firmness, Mary, is one of the traits in your 
character I admire, and which fascinates, even 
though it be directed against me. You refuse to 
become my wife — very well; that is your affair; 
rest assured no one is going to force you against 
your will. 

“We have ample time to wait. As to all your 
father told me about debasing himself by taking a 
clerkship and the like, that is all nonsense. Since 
you are here, there are no longer any grounds to 


JOSK 


133 


dispute his contracted claim, for the stipulation is 
certain to be realized after you have been here some 
time, and have so far debated with yourself as to be 
able to see things as they really are. There is noth- 
ing to be said about it, and you observe, Mary, I 
have followed your advice by submitting to fate. 
But there is something else I would ask of you, so 
as not to appear worse than I really am.” 

He paused as if at a loss for words to begin. 

A chaos of conflicting emotions reflected itself on 
the girl’s face during his speech, despite an effort to 
conceal her mingled feelings of surprise, scorn, 
pride, and alarm. 

She raised her head expectantly as he concluded : 

“You will realize,” McGregor continued, “that 
your stay in the house, under present circumstances, 
may possibly be tolerable for a short time, but not 
for long, especially as your father will be absent the 
greater part of the time.” 

“I shall accompany my father on his journeys,” 
Mary interrupted, raising her eyes in alarm. 

“That were hardly possible in the wilderness, 
owing to the want of facilities for travel,” the young 
man said, with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Under those circumstances I hope that you will 
not try to prevent me from leaving your house at 
the first possible opportunity,” the girl answered. 

The young man for a second gazed fixedly into 
her cold, stern eyes, and a momentary look of pain 
crossed his features ; the next instant, however, his 
face again wore its wonted expression. 

“That you had better arrange with your father. 
I shall certainly place no obstacles in your way. It 
may be a long time, however, before an opportunity 
to return will be presented to you, for a young lady 


134 


JOSE. 


alone among the uncouth fellows of the overland 
stage is exposed to many unthought-of dangers. 
Until then permit me to give the needed support to 
your position. May I oifer my arm, Mary, to lead 
you to the table ?” 

“I hardly think, sir, I shall be able to eat any- 
thing after what has passed,” she said, slowly 
lowering her head in her hand; “you would oblige 
me, however, by calling my father.” 

McGregor shook his head, and arose. 

“You grieve about nothing; still, do as you like. 
I shall tell your father,” he said, approaching the 
door which closed after him. 

When he was gone, the girl got up from her chair, 
visibly excited. For several minutes she paced rest- 
lessly up and down the room, pausing at short 
intervals to listen to an occasional, indistinct, noise 
below. Then she would resume her walk. Moments 
wore into minutes, minutes into hours. Everything 
was quiet in the neighborhood ot her room. She at 
length started up to call her maid, but only when 
she opened the door did it occur to her that she did 
not even know her name. Then the thought pos- 
sessed her to make a promenade through the house 
in search of her father, or at least Hattie, but as 
quickly she changed her mind at the thought of her 
total ignorance of the large building. As though 
intent on deciding at once what course to pursue, 
she sat down again, but soon she began to experi- 
ence the effects of her ride that morning, in the 
form of a keen appetite, that gradually became in- 
sufferable. Going to the washstand in one corner 
of the room, she poured some water into a glass and 
drank it, to at least appease the demands of her 
stomach for the present. She then opened her trunk 


JOSK 


135 


and taking out a book, tried to read ; but she could 
not center her thoughts on the subject, and invol- 
untarily her mind reverted to her situation and the 
utter impossibility of continuing her present mode 
of living. She next sprang to her feet, hurried to 
the Avindow and looked out upon the broad expanse 
of prairie. Whether in search of some avenue of 
escape, or of some feature to redeem the absolute 
loneliness of her condition, she knew not which. 
At length she resumed her chair, and was soon 
deeply immersed in thought. 

The sun was lowering in the west, when finally a 
knock was heard at the door. Again it was Mc- 
Gregor, who appeared at Mary’s answer. But the 
girl’s face remained as passive as th ough she had 
been expecting him. 

“ I am real sorry, dear, that I was not able to 
carry out your instructions, and that in consequence 
you had to get along all alone in the meantime,” he 
said, in his former trifling tone. “Your father ate 
his dinner and then went out to inspect the river at 
a point below, while we were up here chatting. I 
hope we shall meet him at the supper table. May I 
now presume to offer my arm, Mary?” 

“I shall go with you, sir,” she replied, calmly. 
But her face wore an expression of sudden deter- 
mination. 

She laid aside the volume in which she had ap- 
parently been reading, and then walked toward the 
door, where she took McGregor’s proffered arm, 
without hesitancy; permitted herself to be con- 
ducted along the dark corridor, which divided the 
small front rooms from the larger ones that derived 
their light from the yard, until they arrived at a 
room adjoining the staircase. This compartment 


136 


JOSE. 


had also evidently undergone a thorough renova- 
tion, and the table, covered with a white damask 
cloth, roast meat, and various cold viands, possessed 
little to betray the barrenness of the wilderness. 

At the upper end of the board, by the steaming 
tea-kettle and a row of white cups, stood Hattie, her 
gaze directed toward the new arrivals with an ex- 
, pression of inquiry, while at the lower end the 
overseer, his hand resting on the back of a chair, 
was regarding the young lady’s face with an almost 
religious contemplation. 

“You must accommodate yourself to things as 
they are, dear Mary,” McGregor began; “our Hattie 
is truly a model housekeeper, but I am afraid that 
she has almost learned to forget among us rough 
men how to wait upon a young mistress, and to 
properly attend to all her wants.” 

The young lady turned her head, bestowing upon 
the old woman one of her friendly looks, which the 
latter responded to with a motion of the head and a 
pleasant smile. 

“And this is McAllister, our ovei'seer and prime 
minister, who has almost grieved himself to death 
because he has not yet been permitted to shake 
hands with the young mistress of the house,” Mc- 
Gregor continued, sweeping a glance over Mary’s 
face. 

However, he only discovered, as she advanced 
toward the old Scotchman, an expression of loveli- 
ness there such as he had never observed before. 

“Hattie has told me of you, sir,” she said, extend- 
ing her hand to the overseer, which the latter, as 
though he feared he might break it, tenderly en- 
closed in his. “ I think we shall soon become fast 
friends !” 


JOSK 


137 


With an almost affectionate nod of the head she 
turned away and sat down in the chair assigned 
her by the young man. The latter’s face wore a 
look of mingled surprise and doubt as, observing 
the girl’s pleasant mien, he took the chair that 
stood at her side. He hailed with evident satisfac- 
tion the entrance at that moment of Brown, whom 
he received with a “glad you came, sir.” 

“Take a seat,” he continued; “so that we may for 
once be all together. I am disposed to think our 
new mistress will inculcate some respect for season- 
able hours into our minds shortly.” 

Mary, on the contrary, met her father’s eye with 
a long, questioning look, and then gazed down at 
the plate in front of her. 

The meal was dispatched in silence. At length 
the overseer arose and pushed his chair aside. 
Then the girl spoke. 

“We shall see each other at the table only, I sup- 
pose, Mr. McAllister,” she said, “I desire that you 
teach my Mexican pony to be friends with me. The 
gentlemen will be at a loss for time to escort me 
every day. Let me know when you have a half 
hour to spare.” 

“Gladly, madam — to-morrow!” said the overseer, 
joyously. 

He left the room, and McGregor’s eyes were 
directed toward Hattie, who, standing behind 
the large tea-service, was awaiting the end of the 
meal. 

“Do not' let us detain you, Hattie; we are about 
done and may possibly remain some time chatting,” 
he said. 

Expressing her gratification by a nod of the head, 
the housekeeper arose and followed the overseer. 


138 


JOSE, 


“ May I thank you for the pleasant manner in 
which you granted my request and for the conduct 
you observed toward these two old people?” Mc- 
Gregor asked, after a short pause, crumbling a piece 
of bread between his fingers. 

“Thank me, sir?” she replied, raising her head 
with a look of surprise. “ I am only playing a part, 
sir, because, as you perhaps correctly observed, it is 
necessary to sustain my position in your house. 
Nor shall I, while I remain here, ever forget it. 
Why should you thank me? I trust to your word 
and honor that in your role you will not go beyond 
proper bounds, and as even my father seems to 
have added to the effect of the drama we are enact- 
ing, why should I hesitate in playing my part of it.” 

“You will not even allow me to thank you,” the 
young man said, looking down at the bread crumbs. 
“How long are you going to continue this farce, 
Mary, without bringing it to a fit termination?” 

“ Doubtless Mr. Brown is best able to answer that 
question,” she responded, quietly. “ What is your 
opinion, father; how soon can I possibly contrive 
to reach the States since there is nothing that I can 
do for you here? I am always sure of a position as 
teacher, and thus I would at once cease to be a 
burden to you. ” 

McGregor turned pale, and lowered his head. 
Brown, on the other hand, quietly shook his head 
while he cut the last remnant of his meat. 

“Banish such whims, child,” said he. “One does 
not undertake a journey of twelve hundred miles 
across the plains to return the next day. Learn to 
accustom yourself to the house and the people, and 
let events take their course. I am sure these would 
have developed themselves to your own satisfaction 


JOSK 


139 


had not the spirit of opposition been aroused within 
your heart on the first day of your arrival, and 
which now leads you to carry matters to an ex- 
tremity. Be assured that you are not going to be 
forced to anything, but I tell you candidly— that 
you may not believe 1 am trifling with you — your 
return is utterly hopeless.” 

Quietly and firmly Mary had watched her father’s 
face. She looked stern, and her face grew deathly 
pale. 

“Very well,” she whispered. “Now I comprehend 
the situation fully.” 

She slowly arose. McGregor followed her ex- 
ample. 

“ Give me your hand, Mary, and let us meet the 
inevitable boldly, without uselessly burdening our 
lives,” he said in an affectionate tone. “Convince 
me that you can practice the philosophy which you 
preached this morning.” 

Followed by him, she left the room with a short 
“good-night.” 

That was a strange life in the fort which thence- 
forth began to present itself to a close observer. 
Mary seemed to have decided upon a prescribed 
plan to occupy herself; that was in direct con- 
sonance with that of the men. When in the morn- 
ing, in company of a number of domestics, Mc- 
Gregor and her father had left the fort to resume 
their work of surveying and to engage in prelim- 
inary measures for the establishment of a colony or 
a settlement, she would intimate to the overseer 
that she wished to see her pony, and soon the 
animal would be at her disposal. At first she had 
confined the animal to the yard, there accustoming 
him to eat sugar, caressing him and familiarizing 


140 


JOSK 


him with her voice, in the meantime conversing 
with the overseer upon matters relating to the 
Indians, the fort and its surroundings, until through 
the medium of her charming ways, she completely 
fascinated the old man, little used as he was to 
female loveliness. 

After the intelligent horse had learned to dis- 
tinguish her soft hand and voice, she startled the 
overseer one morning by going to the stable alone 
and after untying the animal, allowing him to run 
loose in the yard. She coaxed him to her side, and 
after repeated failures, at last succeeded in placing 
the bridle over his head. On repeating the experi- 
ment the next morning she found the stable dry and 
clean, and at the end of -several days, the pony, 
confident of being rewarded for his obedience by a 
handful of sugar, and cake, was so far under her 
control as to follow her as freely about the yard as 
a dog. Her novel occupation had been furtively 
watched by a number of the domestics, and though 
she at first paid no attention to it, it was evident 
that gradually she began to dislike it. One morning 
she placed the saddle on the pony’s back unaided, 
declining McAllister’s assistance with the laughing 
remark: “A denizen of the wilderness should learn 
to help himself,” while she directed him to open the 
small, iron-bound door in the rear wall, facing the 
valley. 

“I’ll not stray a great distance from the fort. 
There is no danger, is there?” she added, in re- 
sponse to a look of alarm from the overseer. “I 
simply desire that my enjoyment be not marred by 
so many curious faces leering at me, as is the case 
in the yard.” 

And away she went, patting the animal’s neck, 


JOSK 


141 


bending her head down ta his, and treating him 
almost like an intelligent creature. With a shake 
of the head, McAllister watched her graceful move- 
ments, his face wreathed in happy smiles. 

From that time forward, the open space in front 
of the rear gate became the scene where the girl 
practiced her horsemanship in all its details. 
Furthermore she soon relieved the overseer of the 
necessity of opening and closing the gate. 

Dinner, the meal at which she was never absent, 
was generally served in the reception-room of the 
front wing, which was also used as a dining-room, 
and here she would loiter, at the young man’s re- 
quest, longer even than the meal rendered it neces- 
sary. As long as the conversation ranged on general 
topics, her words bore the character of innocent 
pleasure, and McGregor’s familiar tone seemed to 
pass unnoticed. The sultry afternoons, keeping the 
men indoors, she would pass in the privacy of her 
own room, frequently in Hattie’s company, and 
entertained by her narratives of the dangers attend- 
ing the early settlement, or anecdotes of the Mc- 
Gregors. Only at intervals did she show signs of 
weariness. Supper was but a repetition of the noon- 
day meal. 

McGregor granted unrestricted scope to her posi- 
tion as the future mistress, and overseer and house- 
keeper were both enjoined to obey her slightest 
command. He was aware of her novel occupation, 
and seemed pleased with the keen interest she 
manifested in at least one object. Familiar as was 
his tone toward her, and determined his conduct 
when in her society, his behavior was characterized 
by a marked attentiveness, and frequently sum- 


142 JOSk 

moned to the girl’s face the passing shadow of an 
inner pang. 

One morning Mary found a splendid new lady’s 
saddle in the stable, and a bridle ornamented Mexi- 
can fashion with* silver buttons. For a moment 
surprise made her waver. The next, however, she 
demanded the old trappings of McAllister, which 
she knew so well how to adjust, then proceeded to 
place these on the pony’s back with evident satis- 
faction. At dinner, McGregor watched her, shaking 
his head in silent regret and uttering never a word. 

Brown appeared to pay as little attention to the 
relationship existing between the young couple, as 
Mary favored him with any consideration on her 
part. He was completely absorbed in calculations 
and surveying. Whenever he inserted a word in 
the flow of the conversation at the table, it was 
strictly on the most matter-of-fact topics, or in re- 
gard to some undiscovered resources of the future 
settlement. 

To the casual observer, matters at the fort bore 
the stamp of harmony and peace. If there was one 
person who made furtive observations and was 
otherwise impressed, that person was Hattie, the 
venerable housekepeer, who, during frequent visits 
to Mary’s room, found the young lad}^ seated in her 
easy chair, languid and faint. She had seen her 
exert herself to appear natural. 

Thus two weeks elapsed after the arrival of Mc- 
Gregor and his guests. 

It was the first morning since Mary had made her 
home in the fort that the sky did not wear its 
usually clear aspect. A thin fog, which had changed 
the bright azure into a light gray, was enveloping 
valley and forest. The change of weather made 


JOS± 


143 


Mary feel sad. Breakfast was over some time, and 
she was waiting for the men to leave. But it 
seemed that they were not going about their work 
that morning, for two hours had already elapsed 
since the usual hour of departure, and so far all 
remained quiet. This solitary exception from the 
regular order of things was not at all remarkable. 
It might have resulted from the most natural 
causes. Nevetheless it fell with a harassing 
stress upon the girTs heart. She was in the act 
of debating whether to saddle her pony, and run 
the risk of being joined by McGregor, when her 
maid announced that the gentlemen desired to speak 
to her. A momentary look of alarm she gave, then 
raised her head, saying: 

“Tell them that I will receive them.” 

She was calm when they entered. 

“Good-morning, child!” Brown said, taking a 
chair. “ Sit down. There is a matter of great im- 
portance we have come to discuss with you,” he 
added. 

“Be seated, gentlemen,” the young lady answered, 
with down-cast eyes, advanciftg toward her easy 
chair. “ I am afraid my opinions in any matter will 
be of no impotance.” 

“It is a matter,” Brown replied, passing his hand 
over his forehead, while McGregor sat down in a 
chair a few steps back, “ which relates principally 
to yourself. We have been made to realize,” he 
continued without looking up; “that in order to 
further our project it will be indispensable for me 
to undertake a journey which, on account of the 
great distance and the lack of accommodations, will 
probably consume from two to three months. This 
being the case, my child,” he added, raising his 


144 


JOBK 


eyes, ^‘your former position in the house must neces- 
sarily cease. While I was here as your guardian 
there was nothing to be said against it ; but a young 
girl alone in a house with a young man ” 

“You need not finish, father,” Mary interrupted, 
slowly raising her head; “if I cannot accompany 
you, as you have intimated, and my return to the 
States is barred by circumstances which you have 
given me to understand render it impossible, there 
is nothing to prevent me from becoming useful in 
some capacity under Hattie, until such time as I 
shall be able to find an opportunity to make a 
change ” 

“Will you allow me to say a word. Miss Mary?” 
McGregor asked. The girl encountered a look full 
of appealing tenderness. “Everything that you 
may devise to accomplish your purpose is absolutely 
impracticable. Now, since I detect how seriously 
averse you are to my suit, believe me I felt pained 
beyond expression to see you in this plight, with 
nowhere a shadow of hope of your wishes being 
gratified. To assign you to any position save to 
such where you wiH command obedience and re- 
spect is utterly impossible on my account, unless I 
chose to relinquish all hopes of still possessing you. 
In that event you would become a domestic, and 
would shortly have twenty wooers where now you 
have but one, against whose importunities I should 
find it utterly impossible to protect you. As to 
Hattie’s views, and to what extent you would by 
such a course obtain her friendship, you msij judge 
from the simple fact that yesterday the old lady, 
using her prerogative of former nurse and early 
instructor, cited to me the impropriety I was guilty 
of toward the servants in so long tolerating a young 


JOS± 


145 


girl in my house without entering into a legal 
relationship. When I proceeded to unfold to my old 
confidante just how matters stood, she nodded her 
head to signify she had guessed it all along, then 
ventured the belief that an honest girl could not 
have found it in her heart to trifle wdth an honest 
man to such an extent as to follow him to his home 
in the vastness of a wilderness.” 

“Stop, sir!” exclaimed Mary, pale, her lip trem- 
bling ; “ I did not follow you. It was my father I 
obeyed in coming!” 

“ Am I accusing you, Mary?” McGregor said, 
bending forward. “Still, am I to be censured for 
drawing from the fact of your coming to this place 
that hope which I thought I had reasons to con- 
ceive? I did not wish to importune you after I 
detected my error, alas, too late!” he continued. 
“I wanted to wait patiently until you became 
thoroughly conversant with our affairs, and had 
come to realize that in conferring happiness upon 
a man who deems himself worthy of you, you were 
pursuing the right course in solving all perplexing 
problems that now present themselves. Your 
father’s unavoidable journey precipitates matters. 
ISTow, I implore you, Mary, say what you intend 
doing! Will you confide yourself to the keeping of 
a man who will make your happiness the one study 
of his life? In that case you may trust to the future 
to bring what you vainly look for in the present. 
But if you still refuse— well. Miss Mary, I must ac- 
knowledge I am at my wits’ end what to advise.” 

Saying which, McGregor left the room, followed 
by Brown. 


146 


JOSE, 


CHAPTER X. 

THE ESCAPE. 

For a short time the girl remained motionless in 
the position she had taken ; then, with an effort she 
arose, approached the door, and after locking it, 
began opening her trunk. Taking out a well-filled 
purse from where it lay near the bottom, she com- 
menced quietly counting over the contents. Then 
she closed the purse, and with an approving nod, 
slipped it down in her pocket. After a short search 
she took from the contents of the trunk a small 
pearl-handled dagger in an elegant leather scab- 
bard. Baring the polished blade, she tried its point 
on one of her fingers, and having replaced it in the 
sheath, she thrust it into her pocket after the purse. 
She then lapsed into a long pause, anon shaking her 
head at the occurrence, seemingly, of some inex- 
pedient suggestion. She closed her trunk, arose, 
and with sudden energy, as though determined to 
forcibly dismiss all doubts, she seized her riding 
habit, hastily slipped it over her dress, fastening it 
round her waist, and placed the broad straw hat 
tliat she wore on every occasion like this, upon her 
head. 

“Now what else repiains to bind me to this place?” 
she said, tying the ribbons under her chin. “My 
plan will be successful by avoiding delay. What 
danger is there in a ride of fifteen miles?” 

She raised her head, and, without looking back, 
left the room, taking the usual way to reach the 
yard. 


JOSE, 


147 


In various rooms situated in the side wing could 
be heard the bustling sound of the domestics. Mc- 
Allister’s voice could be heard issuing from the 
open door of one of the storehouses, and soon after 
he appeared crossing the yard. 

“ I hope my Mexican has not grown impatient. I 
am unreasonably late to-day,” she casually observed 
in passing. 

“ I guess he hasn’t calculated on an airing a day 
so unpleasant as this, ma’am,” the overseer replied, 
looking up at the sky. “We’ll have a storm to- 
night, or at all events to-morrow morning.” 

They had passed each other. Mary now entered 
the stable. With trembling hands she placed the 
saddle on her horse, carefully tightening the girth ; 
bridled him, and as usual, permitted him to run 
behind her till she reached the open gateway. 
Arrived here, she swept a long, searching look over 
the foggy landscape, and detecting nowhere the 
presence of a human creature, she closed the gate, 
leaped into the saddle, and patting the side of the 
pony’s neck, she rode away at an easy pace. At a 
distance of about a thousand steps from the fort, a 
narrow, heavily-wooded brook wound its course 
through the valley, deriving its water from the 
river nearly a mile beyond, and until this morning 
constituting the boundary line beyond which Mary 
had not ventured. But this day a short leap carried 
her across, and no sooner did the line of dwarfed 
trees intervene between her and the fort, when a 
few encouraging words from her lips caused the 
pony to speed onward with redoubled fleetness 
along the banks of the brook, and straight toward 
the river. 

It was a simple plan which she had formed. 


148 


JOSA 


Fifteen miles up the river was the stage station of 
which Hattie had told her. It was a settlement 
containing several Americans. Such being the 
case, she had no doubt that she should find there 
some person invested with official authority, who 
could at least, if necessary, protect her. This settle- 
ment she was determined to reach, and then wait 
for the stage coach that was running from Santa 
Fe to St. Joseph. If she was not too late for that 
trip, according to the overseer’s statement, the 
coach was due very shortly. For what her father 
had said regarding the impossibility of her attempt 
ing the journey alone, she cared nothing. She sus- 
pected that in order to further his own plans, he 
was determined to marry her to McGregor ; and she 
had pledged herself that once away from the fort, 
no discomforts or dangers, to the worst of which 
she had reason to believe herself equal, should 
deter her from returning to the States. To avoid 
suspicion she had taken nothing from the fort save 
what she wore. But she had scarcely any thouo*hts 
of this, and with a view only to escaping the con- 
fines of McGregor’s home with as little delay as 
possible, she spoke encouragingly to her horse to 
accelerate his speed. 

The river was soon reached, and she was now 
enabled to continue her flight on a bright green 
meadow. If nothing occurred to delay her on the 
way, she could reach her preliminary destination in 
less than three hours. 

Although she could see but a short distance, for 
the murky air, intensifying with each moment, and 
albeit little charm the surroundings could possess 
for her then, she could not help being wonderfully 
impressed with the marked beauty of the scene, as 


JOSE, 


149 


mile after mile passed away under her pony’s 
hoofs. The distant hills, contrasting in manifold 
hues, were no longer so far off; small strips of 
timber alternated with open plains and blended into 
a picturesque, hilly landscape beyond, through 
which the river, now concealed from view, again 
reappearing, wound its devious course, like a 
silvery band. Mary could not help thinking of Me 
Gregor’s projected settlement. Peopled, this spot 
must be a perfect paradise, and yet she shuddered 
as momentarily she placed herself in the position of 
McGregor’s wife, the mistress of all. There had 
been a time when she could have met the young 
man without aversion, although her womanly in- 
stincts had divined the hopes he entertained. That 
was shortly after her father’s arrival in the East, 
and possibly she had then been less unhappy in this 
seclusion amid such gorgeous scenery. But at a 
subsequent period an occurrence of a trifling char- 
acter, such as so often shapes man’s destiny, had 
given her thoughts and feelings a different range ; 
had made Brown’s plans and McGregor’s hopes, 
about which she had formerly never taken the pains 
to ask herself any questions, appear to her utterly 
impossible, arousing in her bosom the energy of 
resistance she had never, previous to her arrival at 
the fort, suspected herself possessed of. Yet she 
had never hoped— she had not ventured to hope. 
In the seclusion of her own heart, however, there 
was a picture like the remembrance of a dream, 
which she appeared to have forgotten ; but which, 
nevertheless, constituted the one solace of her 
existence. 

She started as her horse stumbled, and drew rein. 
She must have ridden a considerable distance, for- 


150 


JOSK 


getful of her surroundings, for the path had assumed 
a quite different aspect from the previous level 
plain, but she had failed to notice it. The river 
which had hitherto served to guide her, was foam- 
ing over broken rocks along a deep channel, and 
detached pieces of flint, sharp and ragged, were 
everywhere bursting through the thin layer of grass 
under the horse’s hoofs, necessitating slow and 
careful progress. She looked around — the hills were 
nearer and the character of her surroundings indi- 
cated the commencement of a rugged mountain 
scene, appearing more marked along the shores of 
the stream some distance farther up. It seemed 
improbable that the path should continue in that 
direction. She looked back. The fort and its sur- 
roundings had long since disappeared from view, 
and as far as she could see through the fog, she 
could no longer detect any traces of the fresh, green, 
grassy land that had marked the first few miles of 
her journey. She shook her head, and turned her 
horse away from the stream. 

“ I am sure there must bo an available path in a 
side direction by which we reached the fort, and 
which I must have overlooked,” she muttered, in- 
specting her immediate surroundings. “ By keep- 
ing close to the river I shall not lose my way.” 

She glanced at the sky, where the sun appeared a 
foggy red orb, and rode away at a right angle with 
the river. After a five minutes’ ride her eyes were 
greeted with the sight of a decline in the ground, 
that wound away through a series of rugged foot- 
hills like a smooth, green band, and according to 
Mary’s calculation was running parallel with the 
stream. Into this she turned with a sigh of relief, 


JOSE. 151 

and with increased speed was borne onward by her 
pony. 

She had possibly gone two miles between mounds 
and barren sand-stone formations, rising ever higher 
on both sides of her, when the “ sink” which she had 
hitherto pursued, ended abruptly at the foot of a 
perpendicular cliff, forcing the harassing convic- 
tion upon her that she had been traversing the 
bottom of a ravine for more than a half hour past, 
whose right course it was impossible to determine. 

Her next thought was the river, the only land- 
mark that could serve to guide her to her destina- 
tion. She dismounted, and leading her horse by the 
bridle after her, she began descending the most 
favorable side of the cliff. A wonderful mixture of 
hills, valleys and gulches, here and there sparsely 
covered with grass and dwarfed trees, varying with 
broad strips of blinding white sand and grotesque 
weather-beaten rock formations, lay exposed to 
view, far as the eye could reach ; while of the river 
not a trace could be detected. A painful sensation 
of utter helplessness began to pervade the girPs 
heart as she swept a glance roundabout. To return 
the way she had come was little better than to 
plunge aimlessly into the labyrinth around her, 
since she had no thought at what point she first 
entered the ravine, no knowledge whither it would 
lead her. It seemed to her, moreover, that every 
step back was a step toward surrendering afresh to 
the situation, she had just escaped. 

Breathless silence reigned all around. Not the 
cry of a bird could be heard, not a leaf stirred. The 
sky was a dark, impenetrable mass of fog, in which 
even the last faint glow of the sun had vanished. 
The air was oppressively warm, and even the pony 


152 


JOSK 


stood with sunken head and drooping ears, as if 
under an enervating influence, motionless at the 
side of his mistress. 

Mary was conscious of the blighting effect the 
dull, silent picture that lay exposed to her view, had 
upon her heart, and bravely strove to dispel it. 
Holding her hand above her eyes, she inspected 
every point of the singular landscape as far as she 
could see. She knew full well that it was absolutely 
necessary for her to decide upon some course, and 
that the preservation of her life was wholly a ques- 
tion of coolness and courage. Suddenly her eye en- 
countered a sparkling object — she looked again in 
close scrutiny — it was the stream! Doubtless a 
short, sharp turn of it was visible at this point only, 
but though she should have to thread her way with 
the utmost precaution over wild, broken ground, it 
was not beyond reach, albeit a long distance away. 
Selecting a solitary tree on an eminence in the 
direction she was going, before her, she gazed back 
in a straight line, her eye encountering the summit 
of a mountain. She now had a well defined course 
from which she could not easily swerve ere reaching 
the river, and with refreshened vigor she patted the 
pony’s neck, causing him to shake his head and 
awaken out of his momentary lethargy. Leading 
the animal by the bridle, she carefully picked her 
way down the side of the hill, only to make her 
ascent up another but a short stretch beyond ; but 
she was soon prevented from continuing in the 
direction she had selected by insuperable obstacles 
that constantly imposed themselves. Once she had 
to deviate a long distance from her course to sur- 
round jagged bowlders and loose sand wastes, and 
another time she stood helplessly at the brink of 


JOSK 


153 


some deep, yawning abyss, while again perpendic- 
ular walls of rock towered up before her, suddenly 
debarring her from further progress. At each new 
summit she would hasten to recover her course be- 
tween her two landmarks, but it was a long time 
before she was able to detect a noticeable progress 
in her approach to the river. Soon she began to feel 
her strength fail, nourished as she was with a light 
breakfast only, and ill prepared to encounter such 
unexpected difficulties, 

The air seemed to grow more oppressive, and to 
resist its influence, it required the strongest efforts 
of her will. At each new eminence surmounted, 
she would point out to herself the advantage she 
was gaining and encourage herself to meet the 
next obstacle; but she could not disguise the fact 
that she was gradually exhausting her strength in 
the unequal contest with nature. 

Suddenly she started in joyous surprise, it infusing 
a reviving spirit into her veins; for, on reaching 
the next crest, she suddenly looked down into a 
narrow green valley, in which she detected a 
trodden path, readily distinguishable by the con- 
trast in the shade of the grass. The river was no 
longer visible, but the path was evidently indicative 
of the direction of the shore, and would at ail events 
lead her to some human habitation where she could, 
in an extreme case of necessity, apply for informa- 
tion regarding the direction she must take to reach 
her destination. 

‘‘Pony, pony, I think we are over the worst of it,” 
she said, turning to her horse with a reviving look, 
and speaking to him as though he were human; 
“an hour’s endurance is all!” 

She clambered carefully down the hill-sido, pat- 


154 


JOSK 


ting the nimble-footed pony on the neck, and was 
soon again in the saddle, speeding swiftly along the 
soft, level path. As soon as she felt physically re- 
vived, she endeavored to take the beciring of the 
sun. She knew that she left the fort about an hour 
before dinner, but she had not been able to measure 
the time that had meanwhile elapsed. The sun was 
no longer visible. The fog seemed to have con- 
centrated into a dense, jumbled mass of clouds, 
converting the sky into a dark and awful blue- 
gray. With a feeling of alarm, Mary looked up- 
ward, while involuntarily she thought of the over- 
seer’s prediction concerning the approach of a 
storm. Crying cheerily to her animal that was 
doing his utmost to please his mistress, but would 
ever and anon, with a peculiar shake of the head, 
lag into an indolent jog, she urged him to faster 
speed ; and yet it appeared to Mary, whenever she 
would look upward, that daylight was steadily 
waning, and the gathering clouds were looking 
more gloomy and menacing. 

A half-hour, possibly, had passed away, during 
which Mary was obliged incessantly to urge her 
horse onward, when suddenly a blinding flash rent 
the air, quickly followed by a deafening crash of 
thunder, that was reverberated among the craggy 
hills in a hundred echoes, and Anally died away in 
a long, sullen rumble. The horse sprang aside in 
terror. Mary, however, was prepared for such a 
contingency and soon had the animal again under 
control, speaking to him in gentle accents. With 
his head raised and ears pointed, his eyes distended 
and nervously watching the sides of the road, he 
Anally sped onward, and Mary now had to divide 
her attention between the weather, the path, and 


JOS± 


155 




the horse. As yet it had not begun to rain, which 
would have drenched her to the skin in a very short 
time, but a strange rustling was audible on the hill- 
tops around her ; dry leaves and grass-blades began 
to rise and to whirl round in a circle, and slender 
columns of sand to dance about, borne aloft by 
sudden whiffs of wind — the precursors of a storm. 
If Mary had not known this, the sudden terror that 
seized her would have explained it to her. For the 
first time she doubled up her bridle and struck her 
horse, in hopes of accelerating his speed. The pony 
shook himself, then broke into a gallop, just as 
though he had at last begun to realize the nature of 
the situation. 

A dense gloom had during the past few minutes 
descended upon the landscape. The wind was 
stronger on the ridges about her, which cut off her 
view into the distance. Another fiash and a second 
report, such as she had never heard in the East 
during the fiercest thunder-storm, followed, and the 
girl’s whole attention was once more engaged in 
restraining her frightened animal. At that junc- 
ture she felt the first heavy rain-drops on her hand, 
and like a veritable phantom suddenly presented 
itself the horrifying thought of a thunder-storm in a 
place devoid of even a tree to give her shelter, and 
which— if Mary should indeed, dark as it was, miss 
the settlement toward which she was making — 
would certainly prove to her a mazy labyrinth in 
which she might perish helplessly and unheard. 

There was a sudden turn in the road, branching 
off and leading to the summit of a near eminence. 
The young lady hurried her animal up the incline, 
and at her first glance into the open space beyond 
descried a low cabin that had been erected in an 


156 


JOSK 


angle of the mountain, not more than a few hun- 
dred yards distant. A look to the right likewise re- 
vealed to her the river, rushing onward along its 
bed of flint. She hoped she had reached the settle- 
ment, but she looked about in vain for other build- 
ings^ However, the weather at that moment al- 
lowed her to think of nothing but the friendly 
shelter to be obtained and without an instant’s 
delay she urged her animal across the short, level 
space which separated her from the cabin. As she 
approached it she could not help thinking of the 
comparison Hattie had drawn between this class of 
houses and cattle stalls, and it is hardly to be sup- 
posed that under any other circumstances than the 
present would she have condescended to claim the 
shelter it afforded. That which she saw was a 
structure roughly built of clay, with a rude door 
and a hole closed by means of a transparency, 
serving the purpose of a window, the flat roof just 
above it framed of unhewn logs extending beyond 
the wall and likewise forming a sort of veranda. 
Mary paused to picture to herself the class of people 
that tenanted it, when a strong gust of wind, that 
came sweeping across the summit, tore the straw 
bonnet from her head and, as though the clouds had 
abruptly been released, the rain came pouring down 
in torrents. The next moment, however, the young 
girl was safe beneath the shelter of the protecting 
roof of the cabin, and hardly had she dismounted 
from her horse, when another peal of thunder 
seemed to rend the last bounds in the clouds, the 
storm went howling through the splashing sheets of 
water, and crash upon crash followed close upon 
each other. 

Long she could not remain in this spot, only 


JOSE. 


157 


partially sheltered as she was, without being com- 
pletely drenched ; but she hesitated to trust herself 
to the shelter of a house of whose tenants she was 
wholly incapable of forming an idea. That it was 
tenanted was attested by the glow of a fire within, 
quite plainly to be seen through the transparency. 
But the storm naight continue throughout the long 
night, and, nioreover, she required rest and food.’ 
She thrust her habd into the pocket of her dress, 
loosening the small dagger in its scabbard; then 
knocked resolutely on the door. The raging storm 
outside seemed to have drowned the sound, for all 
remained quiet within, and as though this made her 
bolder, she knocked again and louder. This time 
she had not long to wait until the door was opened. 
A sharp-featured Mexican face became visible. 
Head and shoulders were cautiously thrust forward, 
and at sight of the young lady, holding her horse by 
the bridle and standing before him, in the fading 
daylight and the glow of the fire from the interior 
of the cabin, seemed at a loss what to make of the 
strange apparition. 

“May I enter here while the storm lasts — and can 
you direct me to the Santa Fe stage station?” Mary 
asked, screwing up her courage at sight of those 
strange features. 

The fellow regarded her for a second longer with- 
out a word, then, shaking his head, he closed the 
door. Mary did not know whether this implied a 
refusal to let her enter, or whether he had not 
understood her words. She waited. Gladly would 
she have listened to some sound within, but the 
furiously raging storm drowned every other sound. 
At the lapse of several minutes, however, the door 
was re-opened, and the figure of a stout woman 


158 


JOSE. 


appeared on the threshold. She measured the ap- 
plicant with a quick, treacherous glance, inspecting 
every detail of her appearance. Mary repeated her 
request, although the woman’s face inspired her 
with a revulsion almost greater than the sight of 
the man. “You may come in,” the woman replied, 
in plain English, continuing to scan the figure of 
the belated wayfarer; “you won’t be able to reach 
the settlement to-night, however, nor to-morrow. 
It’s on the other side of the river, and you can’t 
cross that, after this rain, short of twenty-four 
hours. Pedro!” she called, addressing some one 
within the house; “stable the horse.” 

On the other side of the river ! That fully ex- 
plained to her all the difficulties she had had to 
contend with in her wild ramble. From what 
Hattie had said she had formed an idea of her 
own respecting the location of the settlement and 
had never thought that it might be on the opposite 
side of the river. She quickly realized that she 
must now yield to the force of circumstances, at 
least temporarily. She could not go out into the 
storm again, with night coming on apace; and 
despite a strong aversion to the place and the 
people, she had no alternative but to trust her 
safety to the only shelter to be had in the great 
wilderness. The pony, too, appeared to share her 
feeling of reluctance ; he resisted the efforts of the 
Mexican to lead him away until the young girl 
caressingly and with a light slap induced him to go. 

With some hesitation Mary entered the room. 

“Sit down, miss, and make yourself at home,” 
said the woman, having locked the door. 

A shudder convulsed the frame of the fugitive. 

The woman’s voice had a harsh, grating sound 


JOSk 159 

fraught with a strange mingling of fawning civility 
and derision. 

The girl, now thoroughly alarmed, said ; 

“ I have no money about me to offer you, but I 
shall requite you. My relatives will gladly pay a 
sum which will amply remunerate any one protect- 
ing me. 

The woman turned and said something in Spanish 
to the man, that caused Mary to feel her position 
more keenly than ever. 

She knew that she was in the heart of the wilder 
ness, and at the mercy of these people. She grasped 
her dagger, determined to defend herself. Out- 
doors, wind and rain seemed vying with each other 
for the mastery. 


160 


JOSE, 


CHAPTER XI. 

SAVED AND SACRIFICED. 

For some minutes all was silent in the room. 

Not a word was uttered. Each one present seemed 
immersed in thought. 

To Mary, it was like the calm that precedes the 
storm. Despite a strong mental resolve to appear 
collected, she could hear her heart throbbing. 

Finally, the man arose and left the room, followed 
by the woman. The young girl now drew nearer 
the fire, and was alarmed to note that it was feed- 
ing upon but a few small chips of wood which 
would soon be consumed, and the one candle had 
been carried away. 

A long, weary night was before her. Perhaps the 
wisest course would be to hasten the development 
of the danger that threatened, while yet the light 
remained to aid her. Slowly rising, she approached 
the door. It appeared to be bolted from the inside, 
but Mary’s efforts to draw it were in vain. She 
was not disappointed, it was only what she had 
expected. For the space of a second, she listened 
to the sound of the storm, when suddenly a feeling 
of drowsiness came over her, and she was compelled 
to resume her seat. 

How long she remained in this condition she did 
not know. At length, she felt a choking sensation. 

A piercing scream escaped her lips ! She felt her- 
self in a vise-like embrace, and a heated breath 
close to her face. At that moment, loud knocks re- 
sounded upon the door from without. 


JOSE. 


161 


The girl could now feel the blood rush in tingling 
torrents to her heart, at the thought of a possible 
rescue, and breathing a silent prayer, she raised 
herself in her chair. 

Again the knocks came, louder than before, and 
in another second the door was pushed in with a 
loud crash. Mary saw a crowd of men enter, heard 
the cry: ‘‘There she is!” and sank to the floor 
senseless, completely overcome. 

Thenceforward all was night around her. It was 
like a dream to her — a dream in which she caught 
an occasional glimpse of sunshine and verdant 
meadows, soon followed by dismal darkness. When 
she again recovered her consciousness she was lying 
in her room at the fort, into which a slanting ray of 
the setting sun had forced its way, suffusing the 
walls with golden glory. For a while she lay thus, 
unable to think clearly. Gradually the busy scenes 
of her late adventure came back to her mind like 
the lingering recollections of a dream. Turning 
her head she saw Hattie seated at a small table 
near her couch, the sewing with which she appeared 
to have been engaged lying in her lap, and the old 
lady attentively examining her small dagger. As 
though a dense cloud were suddenly lifted from her 
brain, all that had taken place presented itself to 
her like a flash; but an utter mental prostration 
seemed to have deprived her recollections of any 
reviving power. Long she lay, looking before her 
and recalling one by one the changing scenes of 
her escapades — she was agrain an inmate of the fort : 
the fond illusions which she had indulged concern- 
ing the accomplishment of her purposes lav before 
her, defeated and punished like the whims of a 
stubborn child— all her efforts to resist her irksome 


16^ 


JOSE. 


fate had come to naught — she was again confined 
in the fort, with apparently no hope but to yield to 
the dictates of stern necessity. But even this last 
contemplation she entertained as humbly as though 
her spirit were forever broken. A short while she 
lay engrossed in thought, then she attempted to 
raise herself, but her physical weakness rendered 
the effort futile. 

“Hattie!” she called, in a low tone. The house- 
keeper started up with sudden alacrity. She met 
Mary’s quiet look and clasped her hands in wonder. 

“Are you really better, Miss Mary?” she cried 
tenderly, hastening to the bedside. “Why, the 
young gentleman was beginning to feel quite 
alarmed about you, God bless your hearty consti- 
tution, no matter though it came near failing you. 
You mustn’t think hard of old Hattie for saying so, 
but wasn’t it a little more than a lady commonly 
risks to run away into the wilderness without pro- 
tection against wind or weather?” 

Mary smiled faintly. 

“Sit down near me, Hattie,” she said, “I would 
like to know one thing. What happened here after 
I left?” she continued, as the housekeeper hastened 
to place her chair close by the bed; “and how did 
they discover my trail?” 

“ It happened like so many other things in which 
the Lord has a hand,” the old lady said, nodding her 
head; “and all this, it appears to me, was destined 
to happen in order that everything which at first 
would not regulate itself might be joined in loving 
harmony. Well, it was at dinner, yesterday, that 
you were first missed; McAllister said you were 
gone longer than an hour and wanted to send a 
servant out to find you ; but the young gentleman 


JOSK 


163 


wouldn’t hear of it and said you knew perfectly 
well yourself what you were about. After two 
hours, however, 1, too, got alarmed. The young 
gentleman somewhat impatiently walked all 
through the house and ordered his horse saddled. 
I suddenly recollected — I don’t know how — that just 
about this time the stage was due and you had 
made such particular inquiries about the way to the 
station. I intimated the fact and McGregor turned 
as pale as death. ‘She doesn’t know the danger!’ 
said he. A quarter of an hour afterward he and 
Mr. Brown, and six of our men, rode away at their 
horses’ topmost speed. The men, so I learned, 
arrived at the settlement long before dark, inquiring 
everywhere, but no signs of the young lady could 
be found. Mr. Brown intimated that he thought 
Hattie had seen mere ghosts and the young lady 
was safe at home eating supper. The young gentle- 
man started back silent and sullen, and at times 
deviating a half mile from the path to examine the 
herders who have charge of the sheep there. And 
one of them, sure enough, had seen a young lady 
right in the midst of the deep gulches and had 
watched her a long time. Mr. McGregor made 
minute inquiries and only became more excited than 
before; at a full gallop he bounded back. The 
storm burst forth ov^er them, but of no rest did 
they think until they reached the fording place of 
the river just as the night was closing in about 
them. Not long did they have to ride on the oppo- 
site shore. The young gentleman was about to 
divide the squad, when a white object came rolling 
toward them before the wind and was caught by 
one of the men — it was Miss Mary’s straw bonnet, 
and straight the little band went to one of the 


164 


JOSK 


cabins of which there are a number — but I need not 
tell you any more; all I say is that it is a sign from 
God, plainly traced through the entire affair, and 
who ever recognizes it should profit thereby.” 

Mary lay for a long time, after the old lady had 
finished, pale and silent on her pillows, her eyes 
directed straight before her. 

“I believe I can get up, Hattie,” she at last said. 
“ I am only weak, and not ill ; help me ! If ally one 
desires to see me, bid him enter.” 

The housekeeper nodded in a way to indicate that 
that was precisely what she would have asked of 
her. Soon the maiden was robed in a comfortable 
negligee with the old woman’s assistance, and led 
toward her easy-chair. 

“Now I will prepare some refreshments for you, 
just as your condition demands, and after that say 
the word which will restore joy and gladness to the 
household.” 

She looked down into the face of the maiden, 
smoothed her hair with almost motherly tenderness, 
and left the room. 

Mary folded her hands in her lap, and gazing out 
into the evening skies, allowed the recollection of 
one memorable day, dating before she came into 
this desolate spot, to course through her mind with 
all its varying scenes. 

“’Tisa last farewell,” she finally muttered ; “but 
why do I complain? Paradise is not open to all, 
and my hopes have long since withered. Let 
Heaven’s will be done — I have struggled bravely. 
My strength at last has failed.” 

An hour later, McGregor and Brown were seated 
by the maiden’s chair, the former holding her hand 
in his. She had consented that on the first day 


J08K 


165 


after her complete restoration to health and vigor 
her union with Ihe owner of the fort should be con- 
tracted before the justice of the peace at the settle- 
ment, and Brown’s projected journey was postponed 
until after the ceremony. 


166 


JOS± 


CHAPTER XII. 

OLD BOB. 

It had all been like a dream to Baumann, the 
attack on the caravan by the Indians. As the first 
appearance of the savages had seemed but a long 
\vished-for realization of the conceptions he had 
formed at the outset of the journey, the subsequent 
development of events and the excitement they en- 
gendered, inspired him with an enthusiasm that 
completely banished the consciousness of danger. 
"W ithout reserve he had abandoned himself to this 
enthusiasm. The Indians clambered over the wagons 
and like howling demons gained the interior space 
of the corral — when simultaneously another on- 
slaught was made from without and the freighters, 
regardless of discipline, and being threatened on 
all sides, were forced to defend their lives in a hope- 
less struggle of man to man. Baumann, in obedi- 
ence to a sudden impulse, had seized his rifie at the 
muzzle and brought the butt down among the dusky 
faces that met his view in confused numbers all 
about him. For a short time he succeeded in keep- 
ing back the assailants, but suddenly he felt his 
head striking the spokes of a wheel and himself 
hurled among the wagons. Then all was darkness. 

On opening his eyes, fresh green leaves were 
rustling about his face, but an acute pain in his 
head induced him to raise his hand to that part of 
his body even before he had begun to think clearly 
over his situation. He felt a wet cloth wrapped 
ground his head that was softly bedded on a folded 


JOSE, 167 

blanket, and saw a rough, bearded face peering into 
his. 

“ Is your thinking-box once more in order?” was 
asked in German. “Sit up and try. Not all brain- 
shells are alike. Many a one, I reckon, has been 
made to forget its office this day!” 

The speaker pressed his lips together in a painful 
grimace, while he assisted the young man to a 
sitting posture. The latter cast a quick glance 
about him. Two steps from him he saw a broad, 
shallow stream between high embankments, covered 
with low cotton-wood and willow-bushes, among 
which he was comfortably nestled. His second look 
was directed toward the man at his side. 

“Don’t you knovv me?” the latter asked, with a 
friendly nod of the head. 

“ I am sure I have seen you before ” Baumann 

answered, dreamily. “You are Old Bob — but 

what ” he suddenly exclaimed, in alarm, “has 

become of the caravan — the caravan ?” 

“Never mind the caravan now — there’s plenty of 
time to tell you about that,” the old man said, his 
weather-bronzed face contracting into a dark 
frown. “Let me look at your head!” He loosened 
the bandage and touched the smarting wound, 
almost driving Baumann frantic with pain. 

“ Pretty nearly well ; it’ll be all right to-morrow,” 
he continued, re-laying the cloth. “You can thank 
your stars, for you are the only one that escaped.” 

Turning away, he sat down a short distance away, 
and frowningly gazed up stream. Baumann looked 
after him. Gradually the details of his late ad- 
venture recurred to him. A dozen questions were 
on his tongue’s end. Not till then did it occur to 
him th9t the old man had addressed him in 


168 


JOSK 


German. By what means had a knowledge of his 
mother-tongue come into the wilds of a desolate 
prairie — to a personage who, from appearance and 
acts, had seen but comparatively little of civiliza- 
tion? 

“Won’t you tell me something about the fate of 
the train. Old Bob, or whatever your name may 
be?” the German asked, after a pause. 

“All dead, scalped, or captured,” roughly an- 
swered the hunter, without changing the direction 
of his look. “Don’t think there is one that escaped, 
and if there be, he’ll perish on the prairie.” 

Baumann suddenly pressed his hands on the 
ground as if about to rise, but being seemingly too 
weak, his eyes distended in sudden terror, his lips 
parted, and he made an effort to speak ; but it was 
some time before he recovered his voice. 

“All murdered? All, did you say? Impossible!” 
he at last managed to ejaculate. “Speak, for 
Heaven’s sake!” 

“ Either that or taken captives,” the old man said, 
nodding, while his lips and eyebrows trembled 
nervously. “It’s the dead that are best off. We 
ought always to look at things as they are. All this 
could have been avoided,” he continued, lowering 
his head, “if your crazy wagon-boss and the 
Apaches had been out of the way. The Comanches 
aren’t the worst, and I know I’d quieted them.” 

“At least they are not all dead,” Baumann re- 
plied, with a sigh of relief; “where there is life 
there is hope ! Possibly you can tell me what has 
become of those two gentlemen that spoke to you in 
our camp?” he asked with an eager look, rising and 
approaching: the old man. 

“The wagon-boss is among the slain,” replied the 


JOSK 


169 


other, without stirring. “I saw them hind the other 
gentleman. I can’t tell you whether the Apaches 
or the Comanches claimed him; still, that I can 
easily ascertain.” 

“How is it that I am alive and free, old man?” 
asked Baumann, excitedly. 

Bob slowly raised his head and a bright ray stole 
across his counteannce. 

“Because the Lord never deserts a German,” he 
said, with a touch of grim humor. “It wasn’t ex- 
actly a marvel, but still there was enough luck 
about it to remind one of the old saying.” It seemed 
to relieve him to change the current of his thoughts. 
“I guessed the moment you opened your mouth, 
w^hile you were standing near the camp-fire, where 
your boyhood days were spent. It isn’t often that 
a German can disguise his nationality in the English 
language. I saw you again about the time the red 
devils prepared to attack the train, dogs of Apaches ! 
he suddenly exclaimed, interrupting himself, raising 
his left hand, that was covered with a broad strip of 
buckskin, menacingly aloft, while his eyes flashed 
with fierce rage. “ But the Prairie-Devil will come 
for you and avenge this dastardly act in a way 
that will not be forgotten even when Old Bob is 
long moldering in the grave.” 

He glanced up the river in moody silence, then 
passed his broad right hand across his face. 

“But I won’t embitter my present moments of 
peace,” he resumed, after a pause. “It was like 
this: The Comanches know Iron-Fist, as they term 
me. I have lived and hunted with them ever since 
I came away from the Missouri. I taught them to 
respect the strength of my arm, but I also enlight- 
ened their craniums when their Indian horse-sense 


170 


JOSE. 


was at an end, and when they found I wasn’t 
trifling with them they began to listen to me. The 
Comanches might possibly have helped themselves 
to some part of the cargo — in fact, they might have 
taken all, for they were suffering want, and their 
appropriations by the government of the United 
States did not come ; but not a life would have been 
taken but for the Apaches, the starving wolves, 
who asked for blood. Still Tehohpee doubtless was 
mindful of my words, even after the massacre had 
begun. I saw him in the midst of the shocking 
fight lending aid and protection, and Comanche 
warriors sprang to the rescue of fleeing men whom 
the Apaches were pursuing. Not a solitary white 
man would have escaped but for his intervention, 
and it is to him that you owe your life. I saw you 
lying among the wagons on reaching the scene 
where not a single defender that breathed remained 
to stay the bloody work. I did not know how much 
of you I might be able to save, but I loaded you on 
my shoulders and carried you away almost hoping 
some fiend of an Apache would confront me; but 
the majority of them had already begun their work 
of plundering the wagons and the Comanches 
stepped out of the way.” 

He abruptly paused, as if a new thought had sud- 
denly occurred to him, and gazed fixedly on the 
ground. “There it is,” he said, after a long pause. 
“I knew there was something on my mind I couldn’t 
grasp!” He again stared silently at the ground, 
while Baumann, impelled by a multitude of con- 
flicting emotions, sat down beside him without 
daring to interrupt his thoughts. 

“Do you know anything about that bold little 
chap/’ the old hunter resumed, after ^ while, his 


JOSE. 


171 


look dissolving into a humorous grin, then relapsing 
into its former sullenness; “who tongue-lashed the 
Apache,in such an unmerciful manner as if he were 
a whole regiment ; who called me ‘Uncle Bob’ just 
as though we hadn^t been acquainted but fifteen 
minutes, and who was picked up by the red hound 
like a wolf pouncing upon a lamb?” 

Baumann related what he knew ; that the young 
man had engaged himself to drive mules, had then 
disappeared mysteriously and brought the first in- 
telligence of the coming of the Indians. 

The hunter slowly shook his head. 

“ I begin to see through this wild bird, the sight 
of whom threatened to confuse me at first,” he said ; 
“then again I am puzzled. Some wondrously 
strange things must have occurred to have driven 
him forth from his cosy nest.” 

He thoughtfully shook his head, then he seemed 
forcibly to dispel his gloomy train of thoughts. 

“ It was a she, my dear sir, whom you erroneously 
took to be a young he,” he continued with uplifted 
face; “and about her calling me uncle, that was 
right. She is a niece of mine, the wife of my 
brother’s son. This son imported her from Cali- 
fornia, taking her to his parent’s farm in Missouri. 
She was a feature when I saw her there, kept the 
wlK)le house in a state of excitement, learned to 
talk German in the wink of an eye, regardless of 
her Spanish and English, clung to her husband like 
a burr— and now, dressed in hat and breeches— out 
here she is with me on the prairie ! It would have 
confused a shrewder man than me, but it won’t end 
there, her recognizing her Uncle Bob,” he continued, 
after a short pause, while his eyebrows again 
ruffled darkly. “No matter what occurred home 


172 JOSE. 

—I’ll find her, and then I’ll settle my account with 
the red wolves !” 

Baumann, now fatigued, fell asleep. Day was 
fading fast into the soft mellow light of the moon, 
when he awoke. 

He had enjoyed a long slumber. His head no 
longer pained, and he felt a refreshing influence 
invigorating his entire system. 

Bob was beside him, examining a light rifle which 
he readily recognized as his own. 

“ It’s a beauty, with the exception of the weight 
of the butt,” said Bob, extending the gun to him. 
“Here is something to cover your head, which, if it 
possesses no other advantage, at least is not pain- 
ful.” 

It was a hat evidently at one time the property of 
a freighter, but Baumann was quite above scruples, 
and gladly pressed the soft felt over the bandage 
that covered his wound. 

“Every last man of the reds has disappeared,” the 
hunter continued. “According to my knowledge of 
their ways, we need look for them nowhere save at 
their last grazing place. How, then,” said the old 
hunter, as he gathered up Baumann’s blanket and 
his own, “we will travel on.” 

As they slowly moved in the direction of a hill, 
the younger man suddenly observed a suspicious 
swaying of the grass. He crept onward close behind 
his companion with bated breath. Bob making- in a 
direct line for the singular object concealed. The 
hunter had barely passed the first tree when a layer 
of dry sticks, under the cover of the grass, crackled 
noisily under the weight of his body, while simul- 
taneously a violent commotion of the grass ensued. 
The hunter leaped to his feet like a flash, At the 


josk 


173 


saAie time a dark figure arose from the ground but 
a short distance from him, and springing back, the 
loud snapping of a gun became audible. 

“ Come at me, all-fired Mormons or whatever you 
may be !” 

“That’s Bill — Dutch Bill, as I live!” cried Bau- 
mann, with a loud laugh, hastening to Bob’s side. 
The deadly rifles were lowered, and slowly, as if still 
suspicious of the sudden arrivals, the irrepressible 
freighter advanced. 

“Don't you know me. Bill?” asked Baumann, ex- 
tending his hand, which Bill shook heartily. Then 
he looked at Bob. He seemed to be looking for 
some one he did not see. 

“Oh, it’s you, is it? Why, of course I know you; 
my head was so full of those red-skinned thieves, a 
moment ago, I couldn’t think of anything else— but 
where is Mr. Green?” Again he gazed searchingly 
about. 

“Green, I am sorry to say. Bill, is not with us,” 
replied Baumann, giving his hand a warm pressure ; 
“ but I think we shall And him, and if it be within 
human power to rescue him, we have the right man 
here. You haven’t forgotten him, have you? It is 
Dutch Bill, the chief driver of the caravan,” he 
said, addressing the hunter; “and the best fellow 
that ever crossed the plains.” 

“You were imprudent in selecting this for a place 
of concealment, man!” said Bob, warmly shaking 
the other’s hand;” you must be aware that after an 
occurrence like that of this morning, nobody will 
pass an ambush of this character without securing 
his retreat. Still I am heartily glad that you es- 
caped the attack with a whole skin.” 

“ I hardly know whether I ought to be glad or 


174 


JOSK 


sorry,” the freighter replied, dubiously; ‘^and yet I 
am not to blame for it. When that red-skinned 
Mormon seized Jose — you saw the occurrence — and 
no one came to his assistance — Jose, who after 
many a day of secret sorrow had turned up again — 
I felt I scarce can tell you how. I know that T shot 
at the red brute in the first moment of my excite- 
ment; after that I thought my legs would give way 
under me, and when the infernal outfit came down 
upon us, I thought the whole world was swaying 
and dancing about me. All I remember is that I 
crawled out from under a wagon to avoid being 
defenselessly slaughtered ; that after that I fell into 
a ravine with just presence of mind enough to think 
of my rifle that lay beside me. After a while I 
crawled along the opening until I reached the river, 
where I sat down to wonder if I was still the same 
old Dutch Bill, who is known all over Utah, Cali- 
fornia and Santa Fe, and who has four times before 
stood face to face with the Indians. I reckon that 
if I hadn’t been too badly beaten up I‘d returned to 
what was left of the caravan ; but it wasn’t long 
before I heard a howling in the distance, such as I 
have heard only once before in my life, but which 
I shall never, never forget; and then I felt sure I 
couldn’t save anything but my own miserable skin. 
Had I cut my way through, I’d have had no scruples 
about sitting here the present moment — and yet I 
can only heap abuse on the wretched bones that 
will desert a man when he needs them most. Call 
me what you like,” he continued, drawing his hat 
over his face; “I did the best I could. The boy 
must be accountable fur it all. Afterward I crept 
up along the shore till I got to this place, where I 
concluded to await the coming of night so as not to 


JOSE. 


175 


fall into the hands of the Indians, but I couldn’t 
rest for the thoughts that troubled me, and now— is 
it indeed as serious as I have been led to believe?” 

“We’ll talk of that later,” rejoined the old hunter; 
“the question now is: are you strong enough and 
bold enough to encounter the dangers that are be- 
fore us?” 

Bill interrupted the speaker by seizing his slouch 
hat and dashing it on the ground with startling 
energy. 

“Say that again, and right here I’ll put a bullet 
through my carcass!” he shouted. “But I suppose 
I ought to keep mum. After what has passed I’ve 
got no right to complain about anything.” 

“I meant no harm,” Bob quietly observed; “I 
have seen whites, strong as giants, fall by the way 
side, for the prairie air is a strange agent; and 
when a man’s strength fails, his courage follows as 
a natural consequence.” 

“But I have my strength back,” vehemently pro- 
tested Bill, taking his hat from the ground; “and as 
for my courage. I’ll show you when the time 
comes.” 

“Very well,” replied the hunter, with a nod. “I 
only wished to let you know that we have a weary 
night’s tramp before us, and that we must be about 
it without delay. If you are ready to go with us 
and share our dangers you are welcome. My pur- 
pose is to visit the redskins at their home and look 
after our friends of the train.” 

Bill shouldered his rifle and placed his hat on his 
head with one motion. 

“Get up! G’long!” he exclaimed, as though 
flourishing his quirt over the backs of his mules. 


176 


JosA 


we don’t convert a few of these red Mormons, 
blank it! t’won’t be Dutch Bill’s fault.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A COMANCHE CAMP. 

Day was breaking in the east when the trio 
reached the ford. They had marched all night, the 
hunter in advance, silent and reserved, Baumann 
and Bill interchanging their thoughts in a low 
voice. The fatal issue of the attack had less aston- 
ished Bill, partly prepared as he was for such a 
communication, than the secret of Jose’s sex. 

“ In skirts or breeches, a woman’s a woman for all 
that. The sex can make a fool of an old chap like 
me in any disguise,” was Bill’s philosophic con- 
clusion. “ I’m sorry for the boy ; with proper train- 
ing he might have amounted to something; but 
since he’s turned out to be a woman, of course 
there’s no hope for him. Still, I can’t help pitying 
him. I wonder if Mr. Green suspected anything, or 
whether she bamboozled him, too?” 

Baumann did not deem it prudent to express an 
opinion, and the subject there ended, although the 
frequency with which Bill shook his head during 
the lapse of silence that thereupon ensued indicated 
to what extent the singular discovery agitated his 
mind. 

The river presented a remarkable aspect in the 
vicinity of the ford. Xot a sign of water could be 
detected and only a layer of quick-sand apparently 
filled its bed. 

“Walk lightly across, but don’t rest an instant on 
either foot if you don’t want to be ingulfed,” Bob 


JOSE. 


177 


observed, descending the gently sloping bank. “ The 
sand is lying on the surface of the water and will 
only support a weight that is quick to move — there,” 
he added, his eyes directed toward the ground; 
“ the whole tribe that was camped around the fort 
has crossed, as I surmised — women, children, and 
all.” 

He walked across with a quick, active step, fol- 
lowed by his companions in the same manner. The 
opposite bank was easily ascended, and after a 
careful examination of the ground the guide 
divested himself of his game-bag and rifle. 

Having found the trail, we can take our break- 
fast,” he said; “we shall be up with them before 
nightfall.” 

A quantity of dry buffalo chips, that covered the 
ground about, was quickly gathered and ignited; 
the necessary tin vessels were produced from the 
knapsacks, and with the largest of these Bob re- 
turned to the river, dug a hole in the sand and filled 
it with water that welled forth in a crystal stream. 
Coffee was soon prepared, a Welsh corn-cake steam- 
ing in a tin skillet, and without further delay the 
three applied themselves to the frugal viands before 

them. Not until he had drained a large cup of 
coffee did Bill turn his attention to aught else; 

then, while Baumann was contemplating the sky, 
gorgeously tinged with the first flush of morning, 
and the hunter sat wrapped in sullen thoughts, he 
began examining the Indian trail, plainly visible in 
the low, trampled grass. 

“It’s plain that they came from the direction of 
the fort. You can trace the trail by their tent-poles 
which dragged behind,” he said, thoughtfully; “but 
the fort is at least two day’s travel distant, "and it 


178 


JOSE, 


was only yesterday we were attacked ; so you see it 
can’t be the trail of the band that pillaged the 
train! What say, old man?” turning to the guide. 

Bob raised his head, with a mocking smile upon 
his face. 

“Ay, how is it,” he replied; “that while I was at 
the fort I knew four or five days beforehand of the 
coming of the caravan, and made an effort to warn 
it? The Indian scouts are equally swift, and the 
band that crossed at this point knew enough to be 
on hand in time to share in the work of pillage. I 
think,” he continued with a nod; “we sha’n’t be a 
day ere weTl find the other trail merge into this 
one.” 

“I haven’t another word to say!” rejoined the 
freighter, pushing his hat down over his forehead. 
“I’m only anxious to begin work in order to do 
penance for my sins.” 

After an hour’s lapse, the little band was once 
more under way, pursuing the trail. The sun. was 
approaching meridian when Bob, who was in ad- 
vance, halted, pointing to a broad track in the 
grass, merging, at an acute angle, into the trail 
they had hitherto followed. Without deigning a 
word the hunter marched on, only increasing the 
scope of his steps. At this point the prairie assumed 
an undulating surface. When finally they went 
into camp at the banks of a shallow brook, winding 
away between a series of ridges. Bob broke several 
shady boughs at the sparse undergrowth that lined 
the shore. 

“We must be prepared, constituted as the ground 
is hereabout, to encounter the redskins at almost 
any time and unexpectedly, and hence it will be 
prudent to avoid every shade of suspicion while we 


JOSK 


179 


have the means,” he said, thrusting a limb into the 
muzzle of his rifle. “At all events by so doing we 
shall have no cause to reproach ourselves.” 

“I’d prefer to run in a ball on top of the other,” 
growled the freighter, mercilessly forcing half of 
the limb into the muzzle of his weapon. “ However, 
I’ll shut my mouth and obey orders!” 

Baumann, who had begun to show signs of ex- 
haustion in consequence of the unwonted exercise 
to which he had been subjected, brightened up at 
the hunter’s words; and even Bill’s face relaxed 
when Bob raised both hammers of his double-barrel, 
and substituted new caps. 

“While I hardly think we need be alarmed,” said 
the hunter, “ there is no harm in being cautious.” 

“If you don’t come to us, we’ll go to you! that’s 
the cackle!” said the freighter, nodding, while to- 
gether with Baumann he followed Bob’s example, 
and both carefully examined their pistols. 

The trail now ran parallel with the brook, except 
when at intervals it extended in a straight direction 
where the brook formed a bend, the grass seeming 
to grow taller and fresher as they advanced. At 
the lapse of several hours Bob at last halted on the 
crest of a prairie ridge and with a “Here they are!” 
beckoned his friends to approach. 

In a vallev of concave form, through which the 
brook wound its meandering course, a numoer of 
rawhide tents were scattered in picturesque dis- 
order, leaving an open square in the center of the 
improvised village, in which groups of warriors, 
squaws, and children mingled in a motley throng. 
Upon the open plain, surrounding, horses were 
grazing unrestricted. The whites had passed but 
few seconds in silent contemplation of the scene 


180 


JOSE, 


when a commotion among the Indians below indi- 
cated that they had been observed. The throng 
scattered precipitously, some hastening into the 
tepees, others hurrying toward the plain beyond, 
apparently to get a better view of the arrivals. Bob 
seemed anxious to avoid any additional delay. 

“ Keep behind me until they have satisfied them- 
selves who we are,” he said, hastening down the 
acclivity and holding his rifle with its green bough 
before him. “ It must be that they are young folks 
or they would have recognized me ere this.” 

As the whites approached closer to the tents the 
crowd of redskins on the plain, adjoining, momen- 
tarily increased in number. Soon the trio was sur- 
rounded by a small group of Indians, whose gestures 
and movements would have betrayed only pardon- 
able curiosity, but for the obdurate and frowning 
looks on their dusky faces. Bob, not the least dis- 
concerted, pressed on, but his keenly observing eye 
moved warily over his surroundings, and when 
gradually an almost impenetrable, surging circle 
had been formed about them, constantly increasing 
in density and permissive only of a tedious progress, 
he suddenly halted, his brows corrugated into an 
ominous frown. 

“ There seems to be a screw loose somewhere in 
the friendship of these copper-colored children ; but 
ITl soon get at the bottom of it,” he said, in German, 
with a grim smile. “You two behind me, stand 
back; the rifle in the left arm ; your right hand on 
your pistols, but fire only in extreme case of neces- 
sity.” 

The maneuver was executed with ready dispatch ; 
but it seemed only to render the Indians the bolder, 
for the circle began to contract visibly. 


JOSK 


181 


“ Is this a way to treat a friend who comes to 
shelter two guests in the tent of the chief of the 
Comanches?” the hunter at last began, in a voice 
that sounded like the sullen rumble of thunder ; “ or 
is there a lack of warriors here who have chased 
the buffalo and antelope with me and know me?” 

All eyes quailed beneath the terrible glance with 
which the speaker penetrated the circle, but it did 
not banish the sullen look from the faces of the 
savages, and not a foot was stirred to make room 
for the pale-faced arrivals. 

“Why do you bar our way?” the old man con- 
tinued, excitedly. “ Do you not know Iron-Fist better 
than to think he will turn his face and leave with- 
out having seen Tehohpee, the Black Bird?” 

It was evident that the Indians dreaded to meet 
the gaze of the aged hunter ; yet noiselessly the 
circle contracted, until hardly a foot of room re- 
mained for the menaced whites. Then Bob’s Hercu- 
lean form suddenly straightened up till he seemed 
to tower half a head above the tallest of the throng. 
Winding his rifle strap around his left flst. he raised 
the gun to a horizontal position with his right, and 
with abrupt and irresistible force pressed it against 
those standing nearest him, thus quickly opening a 
breach in the solid circle around him and hardly 
giving those who had fallen backward under the 
forcible application, time to guess the source of the 
sudden attack ; then he raised his left fist on high, 
and with a face whose expression was almost sug-J 
gestive of the rage of a ravenous animal, he stepped j 
back. 

“Have you forgotten Iron-Fist? Clear out or 
gather your skulls up in broken fragments,” he 
cried, in a tone that resembled the roar of a lion. 


182 JOSE. 

At the first step he advanced, the circle dissolved in 
superstitious awe. 

With a grim smile of contempt Bob beckoned to 
his companions and quietly advanced toward the 
open square in the center of the village, followed at 
a distance by a straggling group of Indians. Here 
a tent, somewhat higher and more spacious than 
the remainder, soon indicated the abode of the 
chief. The whites had hardly reached the square 
when Black-Bird appeared between the raised skins 
that formed the entrance of his lodge, and closing 
the same, advanced frowningly a few steps toward 
the whites. Bob and his followers had quickly ap- 
proached him and halted when only a few feet 
separated them from the Indian chief, while at a 
short distance beyond the rest of the redskins 
gathered into a dense group. Bob gazed an instant 
into the stoic face of the Indian. 

‘^We came with tokens of peace, Tehohpee,” he 
began ; “ we came to sit at your fire and to listen to 
your counsel. Why does the red man meet us like 
a secret enemy against whom he closes the door of 
his wigwam?” 

“The Comanche has ever heeded the words of 
Iron-Fist,” answered the chief. “He listened to his 
words but yesterday when the pale-faces’ lives were 
in the red man’s hand, but the words of advice 
which my wise brother uttered were false. The 
Apache has carried away his choice of the prize, 
because he shed his blood in the strife; the Co- 
manche who protected the pale faces had to con- 
tent himself with worthless rubbish. Our warriors 
grumble and my white brother should not expect a 
warm welcome while the red men’s hearts are 
sorrowful because they obeyed his counsel.” 


JOSE. 


183 


“A child fears the rain because it drenches him,” 
retorted Bob, in a loud tone; “but when he has be- 
come a man he knows that it feeds the brooks and 
causes the grass to groAv fresh and green, and he 
will bless it. Will the Comanches be children be- 
cause the good they have done will cause them one 
hour of sorrow? Upon what occasion has Iron-Fist 
deceived his red brethren, and would he intrude 
here if he were false? The Apaches are guilty of a 
bloody crime against inoffensive men, and where 
the arm of the Great Father in Washington does 
not reach, there the Prairie-Devil finds means to 
wreak a terrible vengeance. The Apache dare not 
show his face when the presents from the great 
white Father are distributed; but why is the Co- 
manche so far from Fort Atkinson, instead of look- 
ing for the arrival of the messenger who will bring 
him the things he covets? The Comanches have 
protected the pale-faces against the Apache wolves 
and will be rewarded. Is not that enough?” 

Black-Bird for an instant gazed dubiously into 
the old hunter’s face. 

“There is no one to testify for the Comanches,” 
he at last said ; “ and we shall suffer for the wrong 
the Apaches have committed.” 

“ And why, Tehohpee, do you not demand to know 
the object of my visit?” rejoined Bob, gazing fixedly 
into the Indian’s eyes. 

“My brother may speak,” was the calm reply. 

“Listen to my words,” continued the hunter; 
“ thirty slain men were lying on the bloody field ; 
the two chiefs of the caravan were not among them. 
One, manacled and helpless, was led away — where 
is he? Without the protection of the Comanches 
he would now be lying dead upon the plain like the 


184 JOSK 

rest, and one word from him would set Tehohpee 
right.” 

“I know of whom my brother speaks,” replied the 
Indian, lowering his eyes. “ He is a captive in the 
hands of the Apaches. Makotopah, the alien chief, 
who lives among them, was shot ere yet the strife 
commenced, and the pale-face was selected to be 
sacrificed should the black wing of death lower 
itself over the Apache.” 

Baumann changed color while BilFs eyes were 
fixed in shapeless terror on the Indian’s lips. Bob, 
as though he were partly imbued with the feelings 
of his companions, only uttered a short “ Have cour- 
age!” in German. 

“You hear my words; the great spirit reads your 
heart, Tehohpee,” he at last continued; “do you 
know where the Apache has his wigwam, and will 
you point out the trail that leads to it, on condition 
that the other chief of Ihe caravan will testify to 
your merciful intervention, in order that the Co- 
manche may anticipate with heart assured the 
presents of his Great Father in Washington?” 

At Bob’s last words a faint commotion could be 
observed among the Indians standing round, who 
had hitherto observed a hushed silence, while Black- 
Bird looked slowly up with an expression of doubt, 
and said : 

“Where is the chief of whom you speak?” 

“He stands before you,” replied the old hunter, 
taking a step back until he was at Baumann’s side. 
“You yourself saw me carry him from the field.” 

Baumann realized the importance of the move- 
ment, and with a bold face met the Indian’s look. 
The latter seemed bent on penetrating his innermost 


JOSE. 186 

thoughts, for he looked long and steadily before he 
lowered his eyes. 

“ Iron-Fist’s tongue has never yet been blackened 
with a lie, and the red man will trust him. Let my 
brothers follow me,” he said, returning to his lodge. 

Three Indian women arose from the ground as 
the two whites entered the airy abode of the chief- 
tain, and disappeared through a rear opening. The 
interior of the lodge betrayed the fact that the 
“flying town” had hardly been established. Pots 
and skillets, robes and blankets, saddles and leather 
accouterments were scattered in wild confusion over 
the ground, from the adjustment of which the 
women appeared to have been frightened by the 
unceremonious entrance of the strangers. In the 
background were several open barrels of flour and 
corned beef, which Bill quickly recognized as hav- 
ing belonged to the ill-fated wagon train, as also a 
number of small bales and sacks besides them. 
“And in what manner does my white brother intend 
bearing witness for the Comanche if he himself will 
follow the Apache trail?” the Indian said, turning 
to Baumann, having previously taken great pains 
to close the entrance. 

“ I shall give you a message to the commandant 
of Fort Atkinson,” the latter replied, producing his 
pocket-book. “I shall let him know what your 
warriors did in behalf of the white man during the 
onslaught of the Apaches, and what you are about 
to do to aid us in finding the missing. Our two 
friends here will sign their names to it, and it will 
be as if our lips had spoken.” 

“The pale-faces can talk with each other by 
means of signs, even when they are widely sepa- 
rated,” said thQ Indian, lowering his head; “but 


186 


JOSK 


what proofs have I that the sign language, which 
my eye does not read nor my ears hear, speaks the 
truth ?” 

The old hunter made a sudden effort to speak, but 
Baumann seized his arm. 

“There is a sign-language, Tehohpee,” said the 
young German, while his face assumed a dignified 
look, “which the Great Spirit has impressed upon 
the face of the red man as well as the white, and 
though many a one may not understand it, it should 
be plain to him who would be a chief among his 
people. Just as I can tell by your eyes that you are 
true and faithful to whomever you call your friend, 
and we in consequence follow your instructions 
without a thought of treachery, so might you have 
read at a glance if my tongue spoke. But suspicion 
rests upon your soul like a fog, and clouds your 
eyes. Look up, Tehohpee — we are sincere ; no other 
proof can we give, but lest you would lower yourself 
to the level of the meanest of your tribe you will 
accept it.” 

The Indian slowly raised his head and gazed 
earnestly into the speaker’s large eyes. 

“I accept the proof,” he said, after a minute’s 
pause, placing his hand in Baumann’s extended 
right; “and Tehohpee will be as true as the white 
chief himself. My brothers would follow the trail 
of their friends but the light of his eyes will have 
been extinguished ere they can reach him. The 
Apaches are blood-thirsty like the mountain wolf, 
and the way to their wigwams is long and weary I 
And though my pale-face brethren were to find the 
white chief still alive, what could they do to aid 
him? The warriors of the Apaches are strong as 
the buffalo and wary as the antelope ” 


JosA 


187 


“ And yet as helpless as the parched grass in the 
storm, if the evil spirit chooses to visit them vrith 
destruction,” Bob’s sonorous voice was heard. “Ere 
vet our feet shall tread their village, their outrage 
upon innocent men shall ha\?e been avenged, and 
they be humbled. Let not our fate cause you any 
alarm, man, but let your heart be true and open 
that it may not reproach you with having knowingly 
allowed the white chief to meet a certain death.” 

“The Apaches demanded a victim and I was 
powerless to prevent it!” frowningly observed the 
Indian. 

“As though thirty slain were not sufficient!” 
grumbled the old hunter; “but I do not care to 
reckon with you and will leave it to the future to 
teach you where the red man’s advantage lies. 
Where are the rest of the men that escaped the 
tomahawks of the Apaches?” 

“They are prisoners of the Comanches,” was the 
answer; “if the words of Iron-Fist and the young 
white chief have the promised result, Tehohpee 
himself will guide them by the most direct route to 
Fort Atkinson.” 

Bob cast a side glance full of silent, bitter con- 
tempt at the young German. 

“That is the real and palpable assurance,” said 
he, “but never mind! What, may I ask, does 
Black-Bird intend to do for us, so that we can 
faithfully commend his efforts?” 

“I would ask you to make your home in our wig- 
wams, but it is better not,” earnestly replied the 
Indian. “The red man has often been deceived. 
He has protected the pale-faces and must now suffer 
for it. He no longer believes without seeing ; and 
suspicion is a sinister host. Tehohpee will do all 


188 


JOSE, 


that is in his power to assist his brothers, but for 
their own safety’s sake let them spread their 
blankets where only the bright eyes of heaven 
looks down upon them. They shall not stray from 
the trail of the Apaches; the path is long and game 
scarce ; they shall have ample food for their 
journey ; but let them go when they have received 
what they require.” 

“You maybe right, man, and we will act upon 
your advice,” Bob nodded; “the young chief will 
attest the good you have done in writing as truth- 
fully as his lips could speak ; while all we ask of 
you is to furnish us with a quantity of dried meat 
and flour for one man, then act as candidly as we 
have toward you, by showing us the way to the 
Apache village, and we shall depart at once.” 

“My brother shall have no cause to complain!” 
replied the Indian, turning to the entrance, while 
Baumann tore a page out of his pocket-book and 
briefly addressed the commandant of Fort Atkinson, 
apprising him of the sad fate of the caravan, 
warmly commenting upon the part the Comanches 
had taken in preventing a general massacre, and 
lauding the further efforts of the chief in assisting 
them to recover Green, the proprietor of the train, 
now a prisoner in the hands of the Apaches. 

Bob and Dutch Bill, after listening to the contents 
of the note, had barely flnished signing their names 
to the same, in singular characters, when the Indian 
re-entered with two buckskin bags. 

“’Twill not be too heavy for a strong man,” he 
said, while he united the openings of the two sacks 
by means of a leather thong, so that they could be 
conveniently carried across the shoulder ; “ and you 
will have use for it.” 


JOSE, 


189 


“Give heed, now, Tehohpee, to the indorsement 
of the white chief,” Bob interrupted, in a loud, im- 
pressive tone. 

The Indian straightened up and slowly ap- 
proached. Baumann began to read in a measured 
tone, and with all possible emphasis. The savage 
narrowly scanned the young man’s features, as 
though intent on catching each syllable as it 
dropped from the reader’s lips, anon changing his 
scrutinizing look to the faces of the others, who 
with sober mien and a faint nod of the head, ap- 
peared to attest each sentence enunciated. 

“ And you promise that all you have said is con- 
tained in your signs and nothing else?” the savage 
shrewdly asked, when Baumann finished. 

“I do, indeed, and Tehohpee would do well to 
bury suspicion!” the latter replied, squarely meet- 
ing the Indian’s glance. 

“I can trust my brethren, and Tehohpee him- 
self will guide them until they are fairly upon 
the trail of the Apaches,” was the reply with 
which the speaker took the note, carefully placing 
it in a small leather bag which he wore under 
his blouse, suspended by a thong. “Tehohpee is 
ready to guide you,” he then said, turning to the 
entrance and throwing back the skins that formed 
the door of the lodge. 

Bob had lightly swung the bags containing their 
provisions over his shoulder, and with a brief, 
“Forward in Heaven’s name!” stepped into the 
open air, followed by the others. The open space 
in front of the lodge was now completely deserted. 
Not a sound was audible in the lodges scattered 
promiscuously about. An occasional whinny from 
the grazing horses was the only sound that dis- 


190 


JOS± 


turbed the silence. With head erect, Black-Bird 
turned in the direction of the brook, whose course 
he pursued in speechless silence, at a rapid gait, 
never leaving his place at the head of the little 
band. Bob made close observation of the character 
of the ground, as if determined to impress it in- 
delibly upon his memory, while Dutch Bill was 
intently inspecting the horses, and finally concluded 
his research with a shake of the head. 

“Not one of our animals is among them,” he said, 
in a low tone to Baumann, walking at his side; “it’s 
no wonder the red children feel mortified ; in fact I 
can’t help but pardon them for turning three foot- 
sore tramps outdoors, as they have done.” 

Baumann nodded without volunteering a reply, 
his eyes fixed on the Indian who was pursuing his 
way without ever changing his attitude. At last 
they gained an eminence behind which the brook 
was lost to view. 

“My brethren may listen and treasure my words,” 
he said, pausing abruptly. “The Apache seldom 
presents his face to the prairie while the sun shines 
and follows the drained beds of brooks and rivers 
where the sand closes over the hoof -prints of his 
pony or where the brittle flint leaves not the mark 
of his trail, and no white man would ever detect his 
wigwam, were it not that Tehohpee, at the assem- 
blage of all the tribes about the fort, by chance 
learned where he keeps concealed his women and 
his children. By following the direction of the 
brook my brethren will arrive at the confluence 
of two small streams. There let them turn their 
faces toward the setting sun and follow the course 
of one stream until its waters are lost in the sand. 
There, if they have the courage and the strength to 


JOSE. 


191 


plunge into the desert that there begins, ever fol- 
lowing the direction of the setting sun, the trail of 
the Apache will in due time cross their path and 
lead them to the mountain valley on the Cimaron 
River, where are the lodges of those of whom they 
are in quest.” 


( 


192 


J08K 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE APACHES. 

For two hours the three men, refreshed by a short 
rest and a substantial lunch, followed the trail of 
the Apaches, now disappearing on the flinty soil, 
and again visible in the sand. 

“There,” Dutch Bill muttered, as the trail wound 
indistinctly across a wide plateau of rock, affording 
easy walking; “we are so far, but ITl be whipped 
if I know what the old man means to do next. If 
the Apaches catch us our goose is cooked. As for 
myself, T don’t care. I can have the satisfaction of 
sending half a dozen of the red vermin to the land 
of glory before me. Everything considered, that is 
a quite respectable ending for a prairie freighter 
who doesn’t half the time know what’s to become of 
him when he gets old and unserviceable ; but the 
fact is, that isn’t really what we tramped all this 
distance for* and I don’t know that it would be any 
benefit to Mr. Green and Jose, or whatever the 
latter’s name may be when dressed in a petticoat.” 

“I can hardly tell you,” Baumann answered; 
“however, I doubt whether he would jeopardize his 
scalp any readier than we ours, and hence he 
presumably knows full well what he is about.” 

“That’s plausible,” the freighter replied, pushing 
his hat over on the side. “ If the redskins will only 
let us off this time l am in favor of appointing Old 
Bob general wagon-master. But, patience; time 
will tell.” 

The old hunter continued straight on his way, 


JOSE. 


193 


ever and anon scanning the trail and again keenly 
inspecting his surroundings. The landscape steadily 
continued to assume a rocky aspect ; frequently the 
trail wound round the base of large, towering sand- 
stone cliffs, leaving it to their instinct rather than 
to their eyes to divine its direction, until the dis- 
covery of a trampled plant, protruding from a 
narrow cleft in the rock where it had taken root, 
reassured them. A perpendicular precipice now in- 
terposed, at first sight hopelessly cutting off their 
advance, until a sandy depression at the side again 
discovered to their searching eyes the faint impress 
of feet. 

Three hours possibly had elapsed in this manner, 
and the sun was fast declining, when the trailers 
reached a second reservoir, imbedded in the rocky 
ground, whose edges, without a sign of vegetation 
were on all sides swarming with lizards. Here Bob 
suddenly arrested his steps. 

“I have gone in the direction of this water be- 
cause I believe,” he said, “they passed here, for 
there are no longer any signs of a trail. Unless we 
are greatly amiss, the camp of the wolves is not far 
away. For safety’s sake, however, I will make a 
careful examination of our surroundings alone. ITl 
be back within an hour at the farthest.” 

He tried the hammers of his gun and silently 
directed his steps toward a rocky eminence near 
by, which appeared to form the commencement of 
a long and wide-spreading series of rugged hills and 
mountains. 

Bill and Baumann spread their blankets on the 
heated ground, and after swallowing a mouthful of 
the murky Avater, stretched out to rest, with their 
rifles in their arms. 


191 


JOSE. 


“Seriously speaking, a man’s stomach is the most 
refractory and unreasonable Mormon on earth,” 
Dutch Bill began, after a brief pause. “ A fire we 
dare not start and couldn’t if we dared, because 
there is nothing to start it with ; yet, in the face of 
all these arguments, there is my stomach ordering 
coffee, just because it is night. Well, stomach, you 
will have to accommodate yourself to the inevitable 
for once.” 

Baumann appeared not to have heard the other s 
words, uttered in a low voice, and intended only for 
his own ears. He was busy, thinking. 

“ Have you ever heard of the nondescript which 
they call the Prairie-Devil, Bill?” he at last in- 
quired, rising to his feet. 

“Plenty of deviltry afoot on the plains, sir, and 
the Indian’s skulls are full of it. They have a thou- 
sand devils of their own. I’ll leave it to them to 
square their accounts, and that’s all I know about 
it!” replied the freighter. “If Old Bob talks about 
prairie-devils and such things, why, it is because 
he knows whom he is talking to ; but he can’t palm 
it off on the Apaches, since they don’t understand a 
word of English or German.” 

So saying, he pushed his hat far down over his 
face and leaned back, supporting his head in his 
hand and apparently absorbed in thought. 

Nearly an hour had passed away in silent wait 
ing, varied only at intervals by Bill re-adjusting his 
hat and casting expectant glances in the direction 
in which the hunter had disappeared, or Baumann 
changing his position, for they seemed both intent 
on taking full advantage of the repose they were 
permitted to enjoy — when the freighter abruptly 
straightened up to a sitting posture. 


JOSE. 


195 


“There he is,” he cried, in a guarded tone. “Evi- 
dently something is up. I can tell by his looks — he 
beckons. Come on!” 

The twain quickly sprang to their feet and hur- 
riedly advanced in the direction in which Bob had 
appeared a moment before. The hunter came to a 
stand-still on finding that his signal had been ob- 
served. 

“We are up with them!” he said, as the men came 
up, while the sullen rumble which Baumann had 
before heard and learned to construe into an in- 
fallible indication that the hunter was excited was 
again audible in his voice. “Come and do as I do!” 
And without waiting for a reply he turned back. 

A strange picture was revealed to their eyes on 
passing round the next angle in the rocks. Far as 
they could see, arose high towering, naked and 
colossal bowlders, seeming to render all vestige of 
life impossible, and imposing themselves at every 
step. But with a look that appeared to recognize 
landmarks in every direction. Bob led his com- 
panions over a sort of path that anon wound through 
narrow clefts, and again up ragged defiles like a 
rude stair-way, conducting them each moment 
higher up the mountains. Scarcely fifteen minutes 
had passed in wearisome climbing and scaling— Bob 
like one thoroughly familiar with the character of 
the ground, ever in advance, and occasionally 
pointing out difficulties to be surmounted — when he 
halted and turned about. 

“This is doubtless the path which the redskins 
commonly travel,” he whispered. “At this point 
the path branches off and there is danger in follow- 
ing it any longer.” 

He pointed in a side direction ; but it almost re- 


196 


JOSK 


quired the eye of an Indian to discern the deeper 
color contrasting with the gray rocks around, which 
indicated the direction of the trail. 

“We have only a short distance to go,” he con- 
tinued, “move cautiously now.” 

Stepping softly and holding his breath, Bill and 
Baumann followed the guide, who had begun to 
climb over a large bowlder on the side, at the top of 
wdiich they discovered a sort of fissure that grad- 
ually widened and merged into two sharp peaks. 
At the point where these divided, a green bough 
was gently swaying in the breeze, forming a re- 
markable contrast to the chaos of rock on every 
side. Pointing at this bough, the hunter rapidly 
advanced. The gulch leading upward was filled 
with a mass of debris. With much difficulty the 
two men made their way after the old hunter until 
they reached the solitary bush, where he paused to 
wait for them. 

“Down on your knees,” he then muttered, almost 
inaudibly. “Carefully part the foliage and look 
down.” 

Baumann knelt on the ground, his heart throb- 
bing tempestuously, and cautiously parted the 
elastic branches. With difficulty only he repressed 
an exclamation of astonishment. In striking con- 
trast with the rocky scene all about him, exposed to 
his eyes, extended a fresh green valley, covered 
with rich grass and many-colored fiowers, that 
seemed painted in among the desolate mountain 
ridges traversed by a brook in a devious direction, 
skirted by thickly leafed bushes, and a long row of 
lodges, whose interior seemed excavated several 
feet, judging from the low roofs which were formed 
of skins. Several Indian women were visible among 


JOSK 


197 


the lodges, and a group of children were playfully 
rolling about in the grass with large dogs. Beyond 
the lodges, a drove of horses were grazing, while on 
the opposite side of the brook a large number of 
mules were crowding around their leader wearing 
a bell about his neck. Not a warrior was to be 
seen. 

It was some time before Baumann had viewed 
every feature of the strange scene. When finally 
he cautiously raised his head, he observed the 
freighter still crouching upon his knees, a wrathful 
look upon his face, and both fists clinched. 

“Knaves! hounds!” he exclaimed, in low, excited 
tones. “ Every one our animals, those, and the bell- 
stallion with the rest of ^em. And to think that a 
man can’t have the satisfaction of loosening a 
bowlder of a couple of hundred pounds to roll down 
upon this den of thieves and crush them into the 
ground !” 

Bob sat down on a bowlder at one side, gazing 
thoughtfully at his feet. 

“ I hope that we shall not be called upon to resort 
to that expedient,” he said, slowly raising his eyes. 
“ But here is one obstacle I did not bargain for — the 
dogs; but I hope that, too, can be surmounted.” 

“And you really believe there is a possibility of 
ascertaining if Green, still alive, be among the 
savages, and do you really entertain hopes of effect- 
ing his rescue?” Baumann asked, in a tone that 
courted an encouraging answer. 

“ Stout hearts and a sprinkling of good luck have 
been the means of many a successful undertaking. 
For the present, we shall have to place our reliance 
on them at any rate,” replied the old hunter, slowly 
arising. “ It will not be long, I guess, until we shall 


198 


JOSE, 


know how matters stand. But we must lose not 
another minute of daylight — sleepiness must to-day 
bide its time. You,’’ he said, turning to Baumann ; 
“remain at your present post, carefully observe 
what transpires among the redskins, and constantly 
bear in mind that ofttimes a trifling circumstance 
may develop into an important event. The freighter 
and I will endeavor to devise some way of getting 
into the valley, farther up on this side, and mean- 
while look about for a camping ground where we 
shall be safe — as to the rest, chance will show us a 
way. We shall be back by the time the moon rises, 
possibly sooner.” 

He beckoned to the freighter, and together they 
disappeared from Baumann’s sight behind a large 
bowlder. 

After a cursory view of the wide spreading waste 
of rock, of which, from his standpoint, the eye 
commanded a wide expanse, Baumann for the first 
time felt fully impressed with the danger attending 
the enterprise. They contemplated an invasion of 
the stronghold of a savage Indian tribe, of whose 
successful consummation he was wholly incapable 
of forming an adequate idea. 

About him a trackless solitude, in case of defeat 
and even in the event that he saved his life from 
the wrath of the savages, affording no alternative 
save death from thirst. If he had but been per- 
mitted to take an active part in Bob’s plans, it 
might have sustained him — as it was, the old hunter 
himself seemed still undecided what to do, and the 
thoughts of three men attacking a tribe of blood- 
thirsty savages, seemed truly fool-hardy. On the 
other hand he recalled Bob’s assured bearing, the 
ease with which he had surmounted the difficulties 


JOSE, 


199 


that had beset their journey during the past few 
days, and the terseness and force of his suggestions. 
Thoughts of Green, furthermore, entered his mind — 
his friend who would perish if he did not now re- 
ceive aid, and simultaneously with these thoughts 
he mentally renewed his pledge to leave nothing 
undone that could contribute aught to the relief of 
the prisoner, quickly banishing doubt and hesita- 
tion. 

The struggle within him had scarcely lasted two 
minutes; the sound of Bob’s voice was stlil ringing 
in his ears, when Baumann threw his blanket on 
the ground and began his work of reconnoitering. 

As yet the village lay quiet beneath him. He 
glanced along the row of lodges and counted fifty- 
three of various sizes. What astonished him was 
the fact that he had not seen a single warrior. The 
only male visible was a stripling mule-herder who 
was lazily reclining against a venerable cotton-wood 
tree on the opposite shore of the brook, holding a 
cord, one end of which was attached to the bell- 
horse. The many conflicting theories in the mind 
of the watcher were destined to a speedy end, how- 
ever. 

The mountain top on which Baumann was sta- 
tioned was still glowing in the rays of the setting 
sun. In the valley below the shadows of evening 
were gradually deepening. The last lingering gleam 
of daylight had scarcely faded in the Indian village, 
when the sound of extraordinary hum and bustle 
was wafted upward to the ears of the silent watcher. 
Children were seen collecting fagots at various 
places, women hastening hither and thither in busy 
pursuits, while the stalwart forms of Apache war- 
riors could be discerned issuing from their tepees. 


200 


JOSK 


Several of the latter indolently remained leaning in 
the entrances, while others, with lassos wound 
around their muscular arms, slowly sauntered off 
in the direction of the grazing horses. The animals 
seemed to comprehend what was in store for them, 
for at the approach of the first Indian a wild com- 
motion ensued among the herd which seemed to be 
prevented by an invisible inclosure from scattering 
broadcast. A lasso was circling through the air the 
next instant, with unerring aim, settling about the 
neck of one of the animals which, with lamb-like 
docility, immediately resigned to the guidance of its 
master, [n this manner one lasso upon another 
went whirling among the herd until the corral was 
empty, each warrior leading the horse he had cap- 
tured to his lodge and there tying it, yielding it 
only room enough to lie down. In the meantime a 
line of camp-fires had been started, their cheery 
glow contending with the lingering twilight. In 
picturesque disorder, soon Indians of every age and 
sex were moving to and fro, finally separating into 
isolated groups and squatting around the fires that 
evidently were intended to serve for the preparation 
of the evening meal. 

Baumann had watched all that transpired with 
unflagging interest, and had ultimately fastened his 
gaze on a lodge that was situated in the center of 
the village. While it did not distinguish itself from 
the rest by any marked indications, yet he observed 
that three ponies were tethered near the entrance of 
this tepee, while one squaw, alone, was busying 
herself at a solitary camp-fire a few feet beyond. 
He was on the point of turning his attention to other 
groups, when his gaze was forcibly re-attracted in 
the direction of the first. Issuing from the lodge, 


JOSE. 


201 


he suddenly beheld the forms of three men, two in 
the usual dress of the Apaches, but the third clad in 
a costume that was only too familiar, since it was 
cut off the same piece of cloth, and together with 
his own made up for the common purpose of serving 
as prairie garbs. He endeavored to concentrate his 
entire force of will into his sight, yet although the 
uncertain light rendered an accurate discrimination 
of faces almost impossible, he felt satisfied that this 
was none other than Green. At the first impulse of 
his joy at seeing him alive he could have exulted 
aloud — he could have called out to him that friends 
were at hand to succor him even though impossi- 
bilities should have to be overcome. For the space 
of a second he bowed his head and pressed his hand 
upon his heart to allay his excitement. Forcibly 
restraining himself, he then watched every motion 
of the three men with intense anxiety. The prison- 
er’s hands were tied at his back and were at that 
instant being released by one of the Indians. The 
latter then fiercely brandished his tomahawk above 
the other’s head and pushed him toward the fire. 
Baumann involuntarily seized his rifle, but he with- 
drew his hand when he observed the two Indians, 
with the prisoner between them, seating themselves 
near the fire, and a squaw lifting a steaming vessel 
from off the hissing embers. 

The sun had long since cast its farewell beams on 
the highest summit and the deep shadows in the 
valley were only relieved by the glow of the dying 
fires. The Indians had dispersed to their respective 
lodges, and a pack of large hounds, alone, were still 
loitering about the smoldering embers, devouring 
the remnants of the repast that lay strewed upon 
the ground. Baumann had watched his friend and 


202 


JOSE. 


the two captors until they retired to the tepee; 
then, to make sure of Green’s place of confinement, 
he began counting the lodges in both directions, 
whereupon he straightened up and painfully 
stretched his stiffened joints. The moon was now 
rising along the dark, solemn sky, flooding with 
silvery splendor the jumbled masses of gray rocks, 
towering upward in level terraces, now assuming 
the shape of monstrous coffins, cubes, and obelisks, 
now sharply contrasting with gloomy shadows and 
again mingling into a suffusion of tints — only a 
dead, barren solitude, as though , the creating hand 
had excluded this vast district from its benign in- 
fluence. 

The young man had barely cast a cursory glance 
athwart the singular scene, when the gigantic form 
of the old hunter suddenly hove in view. 

“You have doubtless grown impatient,” he said, 
approaching. “But dangerous missions require 
time. Have you seen anything surprising down 
below?” 

Baumann gave a vivid account of his discovery to 
which Bob listened with keen interest, then gazed 
thoughtfully down at his feet a minute. 

“ I shall want you to give me a minute description 
of certain things,” he said, contracting his brows. 
“Come now, that we may have a short time to 
sleep — ere the moon has run her course our work 
must be done!” 

Silently he turned into the gorge, and after a few 
paces scaled a sharp angle of the rock, Baumann 
involuntarily wondering at the agility of the giant, 
and soon both were standing on a ledge which, 
possibly six feet wide, extended in a horizontal posi- 
tion for some distance along the side of the massive 


josk 


203 


rock. Baumann vaguely marveled what the hunter 
contemplated doing next, until the end of the ledge 
was reached. Over jagged bowlders they threaded 
their way downward, the moon still enabling them 
to seek firm footing on the projecting rocks in their 
descent, but suddenly Bob disappeared in the 
gloomy shadows of a cliff. Baumann hesitated ere 
advancing. 

“Extend your foot!” he heard the hunter say 
from below. “That’s right — now come down gently 
on the other.” 

All round Baumann an intense gloom prevailed, 
and only a small portion of the moonlit sky was yet 
visible far above his head. Guided by Bob, he soon, 
however, was able to distinguish his near surround- 
ings. He found himself in a deep gorge that had 
seemingly been wrought by some strange freak of 
nature and that appeared to issue into the very 
heart of the Indian village. He was surprised, 
however, to see Bob turn off in the opposite direc- 
tion. 

“Luck favored us,” finally began the guide. “We 
might have searched a year without finding this 
alley, and I know, moreover, that the Apaches 
don’t dream of its existence. All we shall want 
now is the requisite courage and confidence to teach 
the blood-thirsty wolves a good lesson.” 

Baumann felt impelled to inquire further into the 
details of his plan of attack, which he had hitherto 
refrained from making, but a short turn in the 
direction they had thus far pursued, cut off his 
speech. An opening in the rock, whose interior 
walls refiected the dim glow of a light, suddenly 
presented itself to Baumann’s view, and after a 
brief walk, he gazed straight into a bright fire at 


204 JOSK 

which Dutch Bill was busily occupied in preparing 
a repast. 

“Just in time,” the freighter cried out to them. 
“I was just thinking that many thousand years 
would elapse before a trio of Germans should ever 
make their camp again in this canon.” 

Bob sat silently down. Baumann was too anxious 
to enter into the spirit of Bill’s urbanity. In speech- 
less silence the frugal meal was dispatched until 
Bob finally pushed aside his tin cup and passed his 
hand across his face. 

“It is getting late,” he said, “you should be asleep, 
for we shall want fresh vigor to go to work. I have 
sundry matters yet to arrange, and will wake you 
when it is time.” 

“I guess you are right,” the freighter said, nod- 
ding and rising. “I fear our bed will notallow us 
to sleep longer than is actually necessary!” 

Baumann followed his example and soon both 
were leaning against the wall, wrapped in their 
blankets and endeavoring to obtain a possibly com- 
fortable position. After a brief pause of meditation. 
Bob arose, and replenishing the fire, strode slowly 
away between the granite walls. 

“If that old man isn’t the Prairie-Devil himself 
he is his traitor at all events,” said the freighter, 
drowsily. “ He discovered water in barren holes in 
the rocks, and dry roots and chips of wood among 
stones — United States wagon-boss is what they 
ought to appoint him, that’s what I say. However, 
I forgot, we are to go to sleep ” 

The crackling fire was the only audible sound. 


JOSE. 


206 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE PRAIRIE-DEVIL. 

Hot until Baumann had sat down did he realize 
how tired he was. Nevertheless he was unable to 
go to sleep, for scarcely had he closed his eyes when 
a sudden feeling of terror again aroused him into 
active wakefulness. He required some time to go 
to sleep again, and then it was but a fitful slumber 
which his excited nerves permitted him to enjoy. 
Thus he saw “Old Bob” return to the fire, saw him 
prepare sundry small cakes of fiour and fine-cut 
meat, and take out of a securely closed tin case a 
vial containing a brown fiuid, only a few drops of 
which he then added to each cake ; saw him place a 
skillet of lard on the coals and fry the cakes, then 
inclosing them, still hot and steaming, in a strip of 
buffalo skin, he saw the old hunter carefully clean 
the utensils he had used, and go away. But Bau- 
mann was too fatigued to make even an attempt to 
explain the singularity of Bob’s preparations or to 
what end they were made ; by and by he no longer 
saw the glow of the fire and a firm, dreamless 
slumber settled down upon his senses. 

A severe shaking it was that finally startled him 
out of his sleep. The fire saemed long since ex- 
tinguished ; intense darkness lay between the walls 
of rock, and the small strip of the moonlit sky far 
above their heads was scarcely visible any longer. 
At his side, Dutch Bill was grunting in a sonorous 
strain, that was suddenly cut short by a command- 
ing “Away! Time for action is come!” from Old 


206 


JOSE. 


Bob. Baumann quickly gained his feet and in the 
same instant felt the hunter seize him by the hand. 

“ Have all your wits about you now, and remem- 
ber that a stout heart and a watchful eye are of 
imperious demand!” Bob’s voice was heard, whose 
deep tones betrayed the excitement raging in his 
bosom. “ What I am going to tell you now I shall say 
only once ; so have your thoughts well on the sub- 
ject. We are going straight into the wigwams of 
the Apaches — two hours are yet wanting till day- 
break during which a man sleeps soundest. I have 
already cleared the way. When we enter the vil- 
lage the freighter will cross the creek — the grass is 
tall and ’by observing moderate caution a watchful 
eye can never detect a man creeping through the 
grass — take his way in the direction of the mule 
drove and silence the herder!” 

The speaker emphasized each word as though by 
this means in the darkness he intended to substitute 
the expression of his face. Scarcely a breath was 
audible from the listeners. 

“ The bodies of thirty wantonly slain men are 
moldering on the prairie where the caravan was 
attacked,” Bob continued, after a pause; “and upon 
one or two lives of the red fiends no higher estimate 
should be placed, if we mean to snatch the white 
man from their clutches, and if, moreover, we mean 
to save our own scalps in the transaction — but not 
a death groan must betray that the enemy is at 
hand.” 

“I shall think of my murdered comrades,” Bill 
was heard to say, in a singularly hoarse tone. “ It 
is true, ’tain’t even a man, and in addition he will 
doubtless be asleep, but if there’s no alternative I’ll 
do it.” 


JOSE, 


207 


“If, then, you hear a shrill whistle,” continued 
the hunter, scarcely heeding the reply, “jump upon 
the back of the leader of the drove and dash along 
the shore of the creek without caring what may 
happen, and bear in mind that one moment’s delay 
or hesitation may be the death of all of us. You 
remain with me,” he added, while Baumann felt 
his hand pressed tighter; “with nothing to do but 
to keep your rifle and pistols in readiness for use at 
a moment’s warning — and now away!” 

The young man felt himself led away, with the 
sound of the freighter’s steps audible in his rear. 
Soon they gained the gorge and turned in the direc- 
tion of the Apache Valley. Scarcely ten minutes 
elapsed when a mass of sag and small pieces of 
rock barred their way. Bob, by the aid of his hands 
and feet, began making his ascent without a mo- 
ment’s delay. 

“Follow me,” he said; “the injury can’t be more 
than a mere abrasion of the skin 1” 

After a brief effort they had climbed the mass of 
debris and saw before them a dense poplar bush, 
bathed in a flood of silvery moonlight. 

“Carefully — silently!’' called back the guide, in a 
lowered voice, while he forced his body through the 
elastic branches with the utmost precaution. When 
the heads of his followers were free of the leaves, 
they saw the valley, half of it yet illumined by the 
mellow light of the declining moon, spread out 
before their eyes and separated from them by only 
a low ridge, thickly covered with bushes. Noise- 
lessly Bob glided down, as carefully followed by the 
others, and soon the trio was lying movelessly side 
by side in the valley, almost completely covered by 


208 JOSE. 

the high grass. Scarcely fifty paces beyond was 
the first wigwam. 

“Be off now, freighter, in a straight line across 
the creek, and to work,” Bob muttered, in a low 
tone. “Should you chance to run across a dead 
body remember that it is only a dog, which the 
Prairie-Devil has already removed from our path. 
I am thinking the red coyotes will soon make his 
acquaintance ” 

Abruptly he paused. A low growl was heard a 
few paces away and seemed slowly drawing 
nearer.” 

“Don’t move a limb,” Bob whispered; “sure 
enough, one of the brutes still survives!” 

At that instant a specimen of the large dogs 
which he had observed in the village on the preced- 
ing afternoon, loomed up before Baumann’s vision, 
approaching step upon step with leveled head and 
glowing eyes. Not a grass-blade swayed about the 
trio, listening with bated breath to the approaching 
sound; but scarcely had the animal come within 
reach, pausing and growling viciously, apparently 
undecided what to do, when with a single unerring 
grip Bob’s right hand fastened upon the dog’s 
throat — two blows with his left fist, that followed 
in quick succession and sounded like the strokes of 
an iron hammer on a hollow object — and noiselessly 
the animal rolled over upon the ground. 

“He will never open his eyes again!” chuckled 
Bob, pushing the carcass aside. “Don’t let us lose 
another minute — away, freighter, and discharge 
your duty as silently as you saw me do a moment 
since.” 

The other made no reply and stole noiselessly 


JosA 


209 


away through the grass. An instant after not a 
movement betrayed the direction he had taken. 

“Now, then, forbear making any inquiries about 
anything you see me do,” Bob resumed. “You can 
follow me carefully, but keep at the side where the 
shadows are dense, and do not stir even though you 
see me in imminent danger of my life — unless I call 
you. You tell me that your friend is confined in the 
lodge at which the three horses are tied. When 
you see me halt there come to me, but not before, 
and now mum is the word !” 

The upper part of the hunter’s stalwart figure 
projected above the top of the grass like a huge 
snake for the space of a second — then he com- 
menced rubbing his bandaged left hand against his 
right, and instantly a strangely sweet, potent aroma 
filled the atmosphere around him. Then beckoning 
to Baumann, he crept out into the moonlit space and 
in the direction of the lodges, while the latter, as he 
had been enjoined, moved stealthily onward in the 
shadow, keeping ever abreast of the hunter, and 
from an impulse of curiosity that almost superseded 
the consciousness of danger, watching his every 
motion. 

Far as the eye was enabled to see in the uncertain 
light, the animals tied at the lodges had lain down 
to sleep. Baumann was greatly surprised to see the 
first which Bob approached, rise and stretch out its 
head with nostrils widely distended. Closer the old 
hunter approached, passing his hand caressingly 
across the horse’s nose. The next instant a sudden 
violent convulsion appeared to seize the anim_al, 
then its head fell back upon the ground with a 
heavy thud. 

Bob crept on. 


210 


JOSt. 


Ten times the same experiment had been repeated 
before Baumann’s eyes — ten horses were lying 
motionless in the grass, as by some supernatural 
agency, when the hunter at last paused in his work. 
He only anpeared to renew his preparations, how- 
ever. After a brief pause he resumed his silent 
operation, steadily moving along the line of the 
lodges and in a stealthy, mysterious manner, deal- 
ing death to every animal, until he arrived at the 
wigwam that had been designated by Baumann as 
the one containing Green. Two of the animals that 
were tied here were standing upright, while the 
third was lying down. Bob stole on and did not 
resume his work until reaching the adjacent lodge — 
meeting with ever the same exhibition of joyful 
yearning on the part of the horses as soon as he ap- 
proached, and resulting in the same convulsive 
death whenever he stroked their nostrils in the 
manner described. Baumann had twice chanced 
upon the rigid body of a dead dog in the course of 
his progress, but in view of that which was tran- 
spiring a few paces away, the mysterious extermi- 
nation of these guardians of the encampment, in 
which the Indians were doubtless reposing the ut- 
most confidence, seemed scarcely a noteworthy cir- 
cumstance. Bob pursued his way, dealing destruc- 
tion, and at times pausing and seemingly renewing 
his preparations, until he reached the last wigwam 
and the last horse lay stretched in death. 

Still nothing disturbed the silence of the moonlit 
night— not a red man knew that the destroyer had 
entered the village. 

The hunter had scarcely reached the last wig- 
wam, after completing his work of destruction, 
when he swiftly returned to the centrally located 


JOSE. 


211 


lodge, compelling Baumann to exert his utmost to 
keep pace with him. Throwing himself down flat 
on the ground, he waited for his companion, who 
approached him with a multitude of conflicting 
emotions, for despite his admiration of the old man, 
he could not suppress a feeling of abhorrence at 
the stealthy butchery of so many of the noble an- 
imals, he had always classed among his favorites. 

“Now your work commences, as well as the real 
danger,” muttered Bob, without betraying a greater 
degree of excitement than before. “Weco Id dis- 
patch the two guards of your friend while they are 
sleeping, but I do not wish to spill human blood, 
even though it be that of the red coyotes, except in 
case of necessity. Whatsoever is to be done, how- 
ever, must be done at once and without delay — a 
single sound that could rouse the village would 
bring the tomahawk down upon our skulls. Keep 
close at my side. Your hand on your knife, as soon 
as I have cleared the entrance. A redskin sleeps 
with one eye open and I have my doubts whether I 
shall succeed in disposing of both without raising 
an alarm ; be prepared and bear in mind that the 
least noise may be the signal of your friend’s death 
and ours.” 

He crept past the three surviving horses toward 
the entrance of the lodge, while with a sensation as 
if he could plainly feel the trembling of his nerves, 
the young German loosened his knife in the scab- 
bard and followed the hunter. The thought that 
what he incurred was, for Green’s sake quickly 
banished all hesitancy. 

Bob carefully raised the skins that covered the 
lodge and thrust his head into the aperture, his 
hand tightly clasping Baumann’s arm and drawing 


212 


JOSt. 


him toward him. Through two small openings in 
the roof the moon cast her dim light into the gloom 
within, and it was some time before the invaders 
were enabled to distinguish aught. The hunter lay 
motionless, extended on the ground; at last he 
whispered, his lips pressed closely to his com- 
panion’s ear: 

“Can you see?” 

An affirmative nod was the answer. In the pale 
moonlight, Baumann saw the shackled feet of the 
prisoner. Soon he was enabled to distinguish the 
dark forms of the two guards. 

Bob advanced inch upon inch. Suddenly he dis- 
appeared from the side of his companion. 

“There are two steps,” Baumann heard him 
breathe in his ear. “Follow me carefully.” 

With palpitating heart the young man crept on. 
He reached out his hands and felt the depression in 
the ground, that resembled a stair-way. At that 
moment a loosened stone rolled down. Indistinct 
as was the sound, it served to startle the breathless 
silence within the lodge. Baumann had barely re- 
covered from the shock occasioned by the deplorable 
incident, when he saw one of the Indians rising to 
a sitting posture. The occurrences of the next in- 
stant swept like a flash across his vision. He saw 
Bob, like a huge shadow, flitting past him with up- 
lifted left hand, heard the dull hammer stroke sound 
he remembered so well in connection with the slay- 
ing of the surviving dog, and saw the Indian sink 
back upon the ground. The next instant he saw 
Bob hurling himself upon the remaining guard, and 
the two blending into one shadow. 

“Unbind the gentleman, quick!” he heard the 
hunter call out in an undertone, mingling with the 


JOSE, 


213 


choking gasps of the surprised redskin. I’ll keep 
my man down until it is done, after which come 
here.” 

The choking sounds had died out. One step car- 
ried Baumann to his friend’s side. 

“Green! Green!” he cried, forcibly restraining 
himself from speaking above a whisper, while he 
drew his knife and quickly severed the thongs that 
bound his feet. “Succor and freedom! — it is I, 
Baumann!” he added, as the sleeping man straight- 
ened up in surprise. “Baumann and Old Bob. 
Stand still here until it is over.” 

He had assisted his friend to arise and cut the 
thongs about his wrists. Suddenly experiencing a 
giant’s strength pervading his body, the young 
German then turned toward the old hunter. 

“ Here, give a pull on this strap so that I can get 
my hand free,” the hunter said, in a muffled tone, 
placing the end of a lasso in the young man’s hand. 
“There!” he muttered, after a pause, when Bau- 
mann had followed his direction. “The wild beast 
defended himself so that I had to cut his wind oif 
until I got him under my knee. The devil trust a 
redskin if you don’t tie him band and foot. Let us 
be off now. After me — silently!” 

Baumann took Green’s hand and a silent, nervous 
pressure indicated that the rescued man was keenly 
alive to the moment of their situation. Following 
the old hunter, noiselessly they reached the open 
air and pushed after him to where the last surviving 
remnant of the horses stood hustled together. 

“Two of these animals were taken from the 
train,” whispered Bob when his followers were at 
his side. “Odd beasts; it takes a long time to in- 
duce them to lie down with an Indian horse. These 


2U 


JOSK 


you may take, I’ll find a way to manage the third. 
We can bridle them, but a mule would be guided by 
a lasso ; don’t hesitate using it freely if it becomes 
necessary. Now then, in Heaven’s name! get on, 
in order that I can assist you.” 

The hunter half raised out of the grass. The 
valley lay wrapped in brooding silence in which 
every breath of wind sweeping through the branches 
was plainly audible. Not a thought of what had 
occurred disturbed the slumber of the red men. 

At a wink from the hunter, the trio of dark forms 
raised cautiously out of the grass and advanced to- 
ward the hunter. Bob caressingly passed his hand 
along the horses’ nostrils and again that fascinating 
aroma filled the air. With a light swing, the hunter 
then assisted the two young men upon the backs of 
the patient animals, severed the lassos that fastened 
them to the lodge, and was in the act of turning to 
the third, when a piercing yell — seemingly of any 
but human origin in its air-splitting intensity — re- 
sounded through the valley. Again and again it 
was repeated, and it seemed to Baumann that his 
heart should stop beating from sudden terror. 

“Contagion upon the red hound — why didn’t I 
shut his wind off and be done with him!” cried Bob, 
bounding upon the back of his animal. “Now then, 
away, and ride down whatever crosses your path.” 

Away darted his animal at a break-neck speed, as 
if lashed to its utmost by a magic scourge, followed 
by the young men. Apparently in answer to the 
alarm cry, the hunter suddenly uttered a piercing 
whistle, that was followed a moment after by a loud 
commotion on the other side of the brook. Then 
they saw the bell-horse, on its back a man, thunder- 
ing onward at a desperate speed, parallel with 


JOSE. 


216 


themselves, and followed in uproarious confusion by 
the entire herd, until it seemed as though the terror 
of death had suddenly possessed the crazed animals. 
Now, too, a loud tumult ensued in the wigwams of 
the Indians. The fugitives had still a long row of 
lodges to pass and already dark figures, frightened 
into sudden wakefulness, were seen rushing out 
into the open air behind and before the unmanage- 
able animals, scarcely realizing what had taken 
place. The extreme limit of the village was reached ; 
here the valley began to widen. With unintermit- 
ting speed Bob dashed onward, followed by his 
companions — as promptly the drove of mules on the 
shore opposite thundered in behind their leader; 
while in their rear suddenly a new cry, like the 
death-wail of a broken heart, rent the night air, 
awakening a thousand strident echoes, until finally 
the wild, chaotic sounds blended into a general cry 
of lamentation. 

“ The Prairie-Devil ! They think the Prairie-Devil 
is in their midst!” Green exclaimed in an exulting 
tone, in which the joy at finding himself once more 
at liberty was plainly manifest. A rough, dull sound 
was all that escaped Bob’s lips while he merely 
urged his horse to faster speed. Steadily the moun- 
tain walls to each side of them retreated ; the ground 
began to loose its green and to change into occa- 
sional areas of sand. The last sounds in the Apache 
village had died away in the distance ; then, sud- 
denly, the confining ridges of the valley disappeared 
and before them, in the fading light of the declining 
moon, lay the wide-spreading steppe. Of the clear 
waters of the brook apparently nothing remained 
but a white strip of sand sharply contrasting with 
the soil of the prairie. Bob pursued its course foiN 


216 


JOS± 


some time, when at last he slackened the speed of 
his animal and beckoned his two followers to ap- 
proach. 

“ Part of our work is done as ^ood as could be, and 
I think we are safe from hot pursuit,” he said, turn- 
ing to Green ; ‘‘ one thing, alone, is resting on my 
mind, which you may be able to relieve. What 
became of that chit of a boy whom the Apaches 
carried off prisoner with you? If he were in the 
village, the Indians doubtless would have kept you 
together. What do you know about him?” 

“It is really a long story but I will cut it short in 
a few words,” replied the addressed, with a heavy 
sigh as if he, too, had a heavy load upon his heart. 
“We arrived at the village day before yesterday, 
and the chief who was wounded in the attack, as 
near as I could learn on his arrival, found a message 
from a southern branch of the tribe awaiting him; 
he rode away with an escort of five Indians a few 
hours later and compelled Jose to follow him.” 

The old hunter frowned and averted his face, 
gazing in the direction whence the drove came 
speeding across the plains with the sound of distant 
thunder. 

“You are right; there is no time for long stories,” 
he said. “Notwithstanding, a report of all you have 
heard and seen will prove of the utmost importance 
by and by. I think between now and noon we shall 
be far enough away to venture to encamp; we shall 
then talk further about this. Don’t be alarmed, 
freighter— come across,” he cried, as Bill drew rein 
on the opposite shore; “a bit of quicksand like that 
isn’t dangerous. You can, right here, transfer the 
animals to your master; they are part at least of 
his stolen property.” 


JOS± 


217 


‘‘Here we are — hurray!” cried the freighter, trot- 
ting across ; “ and back of us the redskins are howl- 
ing like wolves in a trap. That was a monstrous 
turn we served them, though to confess 1 don’t yet 
understand it quite.” 

Green, considerably surprised, looked up at the 
sound of the familiar voice and shook Bill’s proffered 
hand with an expression of cordiality, as only an 
equal sharing of danger can inspire. 

“One thing, old man, I might as well tell you 
at the start,” said the freighter, addressing the 
guide; “I silenced that young buck according to 
orders ; but I hadn’t the courage to run a knife be- 
tween the ribs of the infant as he lay with his face 
in the moonlight.” 

Bob merely nodded and urged his horse to in- 
creased speed. 

“A half-hour yet till daybreak,” said he; “and we 
have no time to waste before we get back to some 
half-way safe locality!” 

Silently the small party rode away across the 
dark prairie. 


i.. .1 


218 


JOSE. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

JOSE. 

Day dawned in wondrous glory, but the prairie 
was no longer like the fresh green savanna on the 
other side of the Arkansas River. Jagged rocks, 
frequently resembling lava in shape and color, 
alternated with strips of sand and ground sparsely 
covered with thin growths of sapless grass, forming 
merely a continuation of the sterile waste they had 
previously traversed. Bob had steadily pursued the 
course of the sanded brook, followed by Dutch 
Bill, still maintaining his place at the head of the 
drove, the two friends bringing up the rear, acting 
in the capacity of mule-drivers, with seldom an 
opportunity of interchanging a few friendly words. 

It was close upon noon when in the distance they 
sighted a long green strip upon the surface of the 
plain. 

The old guide held up his hand. 

“That is Cimeron River,” he said, turning round, 
without slacking the gait of his horse, however. 
“This brings us back upon honest men’s ground!” 

After an hour the shores of the river were 
reached, whose stagnant waters, playing into a 
variety of glaring colors, and covered with rushes 
and weeds, could not inspire even the animals with 
a desire to drink. The hunter seemed to entertain 
no intention to rest here, for after a sharp survey 
of the surroundings, he spurred his horse on afresh 
over the level and grassy ground, following the 
course of the river downward. At the lapse of half 


JOSE. 


219 


an hour, however, he suddenly halted, pointing to 
the opposite shore, where a small stream of water 
welled forth from a ragged, beetling cliff of sand- 
stone with crystal-like clearness. 

“My calculation proved true!” he cried; “that is 
a source of the Santa Fe trail, and if fortune favors 
us we shall soon strike the rut of the caravans!” 

Without waiting for a reply, he urged his horse 
through the shallow stream, and soon the little 
party were encamped in a comparatively pleasant 
location on the opposite shore of the river ; the lasso 
attached to the neck of the bell-horse was fastened 
in the ground, the other horses similarly secured, 
whereupon the animals were permitted to sate their 
hunger on the sparse grass growing roundabout the 
rocks. 

“First of all, Bob, give me your hand,” Green 
began, after a fire had been lighted as best it could 
be with the fuel at hand. “You have saved me 
from the hands of the redskins, although I am still 
at a loss to account for the manner in which you 
accomplished it ; I am poor now ” 

“Well, sir, you would perhaps be doing better to 
cast about for something to shield your head from 
the scorching sun, than talking a lot of nonsense 
that can lead to no kind of good any way,” inter- 
rupted the hunter, with a short laugh. “ And if you 
insist upon expressing your gratitude, do so in time 
to your friend who refused to return to Missouri 
without you. Just at present we require nourish- 
ment more than anything; after which we will see 
what is to be done next.” 

“Nourishment is a positive necessity on the 
plains,” muttered the freighter, busy with the 
preparation of coffee whlie Baumann produced his 


220 


JOSE. 


handkerchief with a view to knotting it into a cap 
for his bareheaded friend, which he ultimately ac- 
complished, the improvised head-gear proving a 
satisfactory fit. 

The meal was dispatched in silence. Bob sat 
frowningly gazing into the crackling embers, ap- 
parently wrapped in deep thought. 

“We must decide now in what direction to turn 
next,” he at last said, looking up. “The two young 
gentlemen doubtless have nothing more to search 
for on the plains, and hence the next thing in order 
will be to return to Fort Atkinson, as soon as we 
can find the wagon trail” — he paused as if a different 
thought had suddenly occurred to him. 

“You asked for the boy. Bob, who fell into the 
hands of the Apaches with me,” Green observed. 
“ Of course I do not know if you are sufficiently 
interested in him, but if there is a shadow of hope 
to come to his assistance I would not hesitate to 
face dangers nor care how much time I lost to save 
him; cannot say what Baumann and Dutch Bill 
think of it.” 

“ I think my way lies in the direction of Santa Fe, 
anyhow,” cried the freighter, pushing his hat across 
to one side; “and for that boy I’d crawl again on 
my stomach, like last night, no matter though he 
wears a petticoat under his breeches. Doubtless 
you were taken in the same way as I, sir, not 
knowing that it is a female and a niece or some- 
thing of that kind to the old man here — but I won’t 
let that change my affections; at all events I’d like 
very much to get just one more glimpse of the 
creature. Even if she is a woman, she is too good 
for the red vermin.” 

Green’s cheeks flushed crimson, while Bob, utter- 


JOSK 221 

ing a solemn cry, brought his fist down forcibly 
upon his knee. 

“I would murder them all if they had harmed 
her,” he cried, ominously. “The question now is, 
where is she? I know the plains, even though the 
southern portion only from hearsay ; but the Apache 
wolves are scattered as far as Texas and Mexico 
and over on the other side as far as the California 
sea; where are we to look with nothing to guide 
us?” 

He closed, with his gaze fixed upon Green’s face. 
The latter straightened up, evidently in great per- 
turbation. 

“I will tell you what I learned about the chief 
with whom Jose was forced to go, and you may 
then judge if there is aught contained in it to serve 
as a direction : The chief is a half-breed, whom the 
Indians call Metopah — the Strong Bear — as Jose 
translated it ; he has only dwelt among the 
Apaches of these parts about a year; his native 
place is in the vicinity of the Canadian River, where 
stands a village of the Apaches.” 

Bob gave a measured shake of the head as Green 
paused apparently to refresh his memory. 

“The Canadian. River,” muttered the hunter, “runs 
all the way from the Rocky Mountains, through 
Hew Mexico and the Indian Territory, to the border 
of the States ” 

“A fort was mentioned, whose owner had not 
complied with the provisions of an agreement be- 
tween him and the chief, and against whom the 
Indian vowed vengeance and ruin,” the young 
American continued thoughtfully; “in the vicinity 
of this fort the Apache settlement exists ” 

“I said the kennel couldn’t be far from the Santa 


222 


JOS± 


Fe trail,” interrupted the freighter; ^‘at least I never 
heard of a fort on the Canadian Kiver except in New 
Mexico.” 

The hunter nodded. 

“That is a clew, indeed,” he said. “I guess there 
are not so many forts but that a person could ascer- 
tain something about a chief who is feared there. 
Moreover, it is the only way I can think of to at 
once dispose of the mules, which we can’t allow to 
follow us all the time. So I think we can rest now 
and resume our expedition with nightfall. I will 
take the first watch and think it all over.” 

He arose and examining his gun continued his 
way toward the river. Dutch Bill, turning his back 
to the sun, lay in the grass and covered his face 
with his hat, while Baumann found a shady spot 
near the rocks, where the two friends were soon 
comfortably ensconced. “Now, then, one thing 
above all!” animatedly began the American, when 
he had barely stretched out upon the ground; “you 
all know the secret of Jose’s sex?” 

“Despite her false feathers, the hunter penetrated 
her identity,” Baumann said, with a smile. “But it 
appears that Mr. Green was aware of it before.” 

The other pressed his fingers against his eyes. 

“I guessed her secret,” he said; “she knew it, and 
that very night disappeared. That will explain to 
you much of what occurred and my conduct at the 
time. Oh, she is a wonderful creature!” he con- 
tinued, raising upon his elbow; “and I scarcely 
know what most pained me, ruinous losses and 
imprisonment, or the necessity of parting with her. 
However, I will tell you the story, that you may 
not consider me a fool.” 

He slowly leaned back in the grass and resumed : 


JOSE. 


223 


I have reasons to believe that after the attack 
upon the caravan, the Apaches fairly entertained 
a project to dissect me piecemeal for their diver- 
sion, when a favorable opportunity should offer ; at 
least that is the impression I got when they so 
pertinaciously insisted upon taking me from the 
Comanches; I was pinioned, until I thought the 
blood would trickle from my fingers’ ends, and led 
across an adjacent swell of the prairie ; then matters 
changed. Upon a couch of woolen, blood-soaked 
blankets, I saw lying prostrate, the stalwart form 
of the very Indian who had been shot, either by me 
or Bill, as he endeavored to carry off our doughty 
Jose. His side was bare, and by him, surrounded 
by four or five venerable Indians, stood he — or she — 
J ose, saturating a strip of linen with a colored fluid 
from a vial and nimbly folding the cloth into a 
bandage. With a sort of deference the aged Apache 
stood watching her efforts and motioning my guards 
to stand aloof ; the sound of our steps, however, had 
not escaped her ears and looking up, a ghastly pallor 
overspread her face as she recognized me. The 
next instant she was again addressing herself to 
her task, and having finished, carefully concealed 
the vial in her knapsack, and bade the invalid 
arise. He slowly obeyed, and a grin of surprise 
went over the faces of the rest of the redskins, as 
the expression of suppressed pain on the features of 
the chief changed into one of joyful satisfaction. 

‘‘ T will render the white man’s bullet harmless, 
and the Apache chief shall hunt the antelope again 
in three days,’ she said; ‘but let him beware of in- 
flicting pains upon a single pale-face lest he would 
destroy the power of my medicine !’ 

“ It almost appeared that every red face was sud- 


224 


JOSE. 


denly turned at me by a common impulse, which 
made me feel ill at ease ; while she gazed coldly, as 
if she did not know me, toward the scene where the 
Indians were pillaging the train. 

“‘Unbind him; he cannot escape us commanded 
the chief, with a look at me, while he sat down, 
with a weary expression on his face. The things 
that bound my hands were untied with amazing 
address; completely exhausted, I threw myself 
down upon the grass, alternately listening to the 
exulting shouts of the Indians and pondering on my 
ruinous losses, and again watching the boy, whose 
secret I, alone, knew, standing in the midst of the 
redskins, with his pale face and large, dark eyes — 
cold and collected, never appearing so beautiful as 
then. 

“ A few minutes after the Apaches arrived with 
our mules, laden with the supplies taken from the 
caravan. Jose inspected the drove attentively, and 
taking hold of an Indian’s arm, pointed out a small 
mule ; I could not understand what he said, but I 
recognized the animal as the one which he had been 
riding alongside of Bill’s team. After a short con- 
sultation of the Indians, it was unladen and while 
the load was distributed, a woolen blanket was 
placed on its back to do service as a saddle. I was 
curtly told to mount a horse that had belonged to 
the train, and while two Apaches rode on each side 
of me, away we went, as fast as the transportation 
of the stolen property would permit. At the head 
of the party rode Jose, side by side with the chief. 
I must confess to you,” continued Green, with a 
deep breath, “I could not help feeling hurt at the 
manner in which she, whose name I do not yet 
know, ignored me, when I had once resigned myself 


J08K 


225 


to the inevitable and believed myself beyond imme- 
diate danger. The heavy loads which the mules 
had to carry and the bad packing, caused frequent 
and long delays on the way; but her face was ever 
the same, pale and mobile, as I had seen it before 
starting ; she looked coldly past me as if I were no 
more to her than any of the redskins — and yet I 
knew that I was, knew it ever since she exposed 
her own life to save me from the consequence of my 
fool-hardy buffalo hunt, and the excitement caused 
her to faint away. You already know what a 
strange impression her eyes made upon me when 
at Independence Dutch Bill first brought the boy to 
us — the singular fascination that constantly drew me 
toward the little muleteer on the journev, and from 
that may judge how earnest and pure my attach- 
ment for the strange little creature was. Never- 
theless the discovery of her sex, on the day of the 
buffalo hunt, had set my blood boiling with a fever- 
ish excitement. In the silence of the night I stole 
to her couch and spoke to her as my mad passion 
prompted. She sprang to her feet with a pitiful 
wail that forever haunted me like a vision, and 
quit the camp ; now that we had met again I real- 
ized that I was guilty of a wrong toward her which 
it was my duty to right, and doubtless that it was 
that in view of her present conduct so oppressed 
me. I am free to confess to you that a tremor of 
excitement convulsed my frame when, during the 
first night’s rest, not only my hands were tied but 
hers also, after she had given the chief’s wound 
a fresh dressing— when it was intimated to us that 
we should have to lie down side by side upon a 
blanket in a circle of redskins, and when, moreover, 
this done, our feet also were tied together. Without 


226 


JOSE. 


an instant’s hesitation she complied with the behest, 
and in a very short time seemed fast asleep. I 
waited until all about us was silent, not a sign 
betrayed that any of the Indians were yet awake, 
when I turned my head toward where she lay. 

“‘Jose, you cannot already be asleep,’ I said, 
softly; ‘I wish to say only a word to you.’ She did 
not answer, but the moonlight revealed the tumult- 
uous heaving of her bosom. ‘Jose,’ I continued, 
‘why should two persons whose skin is white, alone 
among savages, ignore each other as if they were 
not allowed to interchange a look? I have allowed 
myself to be carried away toward you ; but if you 
could gaze into my heart, Jose, you would there 
read an excuse that should require no explanation, 
and you would surely not class me with those men 
who only merit your contempt. ’ She slowly turned 
her head. ‘If, sir,’ she began, in a soft voice, whose 
deep, trembling accents thrilled me to my inner- 
most soul; ‘if you would not destroy a young, home- 
less woman, who yet knows not where the end of 
her aimless journey may be — if you have but a 
thought of sympathy for grievous misfortune, speak 
not to me — recognize me not! We can have noth- 
ing in common that would lead to. good!’ 

“‘Only an answer from you, Jose, and I will be 
silent, will obey your words because you demand it. 
We lie here bound, in the power of savages, and I 
should not talk of a hope for the future; but, 
assuming I should be as free again as I was and 
come to you for the purpose of unfolding my burst- 
ing heart ’ A motion as if she would make an 

attempt to leap up, interrupted me. ‘Ay, we are 
tied,’ she said, bitterly ; ‘I am exposed to your words 
that recognize no condition save self -gratification ; 


JOSA 227 

very well, speak on ; satisfy yourself— I must toler- 
ate it ! ’ 

“ I have southern blood in my veins, Baumann , or 
I should be able to explain why the tone in which 
she talked to me, the tremcr of her forcibly 
suppressed voice, that affected me like an echo 
sounding from the deep recesses of her heart, could 
so excite my passions, instead of the significance of 
her words restoring my complete self-control; I 
talked with her in a determinedly modulated voice 
as impulsively it welled forth from my heart, and it 
afforded me a sort of cruel satisfaction to relieve 
myself of the burden resting on me. She had turned 
away from me while I uttered my feelings, with a 
convulsive shaking of her entire frame ; I waited in 
vain for a reply, but I was as firmly convinced that 
I had been addressing a heart that was only strug- 
gling against itself, that long I lay gazing up into 
the bright sky, with a secret emotion of happiness, 
oblivious as well of my own critical situation as of 
the Indians around me. 

“When 1 awoke, Jose was already occupied in 
dressing the chief's injuries. I heard that he had 
suffered severely during the night, and that the 
young medicine-man had intimated he was only 
harming himself by keeping his prisoners tied, and 
that he would do well to give credence to their 
words, as none would attempt to escape, only to 
perish on the plains Jose was paler than the day 
previous, and I tried in vain to read those features, 
which in point of immutability, reminded me of a 
face of marble. 

“We proceeded on our journey, and when on the 
second night the Indians went into camp, she was 
assigned a place at the chief's side. The medicine 


228 


JOSE. 


at that stage had to be administered at midnight 
and during the decline of the moon, I heard the 
Indians about me say, and I almost admired the 
manner in which she contrived to avoid me. From 
that time until we reached the Apache village, 
where the women and children crowded, around to 
inspect the spoils and the prisoners, I failed to 
obtain even a glance of her face; she was then, 
after a few minutes led away after the chief. I was 
placed in charge of two guards and permitted to 
walk about without hindrance, listening to the con- 
versation of the Indians, chiefly carried on in Span- 
ish, and involving nothing else than the prospective 
early departure of the chief. Soon, along the entire 
village, tires were lighted for the preparation of a 
barbecue, and I had just been directed to sit down 
at one of these, when Jose suddenly pushed through 
the crowd and hurriedly approached me. 

“ ‘I am going away, Mr. Green, but will not leave 
this time without bidding you farewell, for, God 
willing, this is certainly the last time we meet,’ she 
said, visibly excited and reaching out her hand to 
me. ‘I am going with Strong Bear, who at present 
is so weak that he imagines he cannot dispense with 
me— and it is well so.’ 

“I gazed into her wonderful eyes that, dark as in- 
finite space, regarded me, and the sudden announce- 
ment fell upon my heart with a stress as though 
now for the first time, I should be deprived of all 
that imparted to my life the worth of possession. I 
held her hand tightly clasped. But I could not 
speak at once. She looked at me attentively; her 
eyes brightened. 

“‘It is forever!’ cried she, suddenly, throwing 
her arms about my neck. I felt her lips upon my 


JOSE. 


229 


own in a warm, passionate kiss, but as quickly she 
disappeared among the straggling crowd of red- 
skins. I was about to hasten after her, but the 
hand of my guard suddenly fastening upon my arm 
quickly restored me to myself. I saw nothing of 
the departure of the chief, but soon was made to 
feel the consequences when that night I was again 
. securely bound and quartered in a lodge with many 
a painful foot-thrust in the side.” 

The speaker pressed both hands against his face 
and was silent. 

“And assuming we should succeed in ferreting 
out her whereabouts?” began Baumann; “even 
though we should wrench her from the claws of 
Strong Bear — what then?” 

Green slowly straightened up. 

“You have once made me your confidant,” he 
said. “You were enthusiastic in the hope of finding 
your lost love, and doubtless considered the ques- 
tion, ‘what then?’ absolutely vain; however, I un- 
derstand you. It was a lady of the fashionable 
world whom you loved, and Jose is homeless and 
unhappy — very well!” he added, as Baumann at- 
tempted to speak. “From the common point of 
view you maybe right; you might add that Jose 
in no manner is suited to the associations that are 
ours. But ]^ou merely take an unconcerned view 
of the matter. You observed nothing of the ad- 
mirable tact with which she preserved the disparity 
between her and the rest of the crew, nothing of 
this rare heart, bowed down by adversity, hoarding 
its treasures amid grief and pain— have not traced 
the proofs of her innate intellect as I for many a 
long day of our journey. Are such virtues to he 
preponderated by a lack of knowledge apd social 


230 


JOSE. 


polish, that certainly is not beyond hopeless reach?” 

“I allude to something else — something in which 
the recent conduct of the girl has served to confirm 
me, that will explain to you the true import of my 
words,” rejoined Baumann. “A profound mystery 
prevails among us concerning her manners, that 
has been partially cleared away, however, by cer- 
tain explanations on Bob's part. Prosaic as it may 
seem to you in your present state, he says that for 
some time past she has been the wife of his brother’s 
son, a farmer in Missouri, who brought her from 
California. What it was that drove her away from 
home is a puzzle to him ; but you may safely con- 
strue her opposition to your approaches and some 
of her remarks into ” 

“I will speak to the hunter myself,” cried Green, 
leaping to his feet, “and, by heavens! if a blighting 
infiuence is operating here, it is that which is rest- 
ing with harassing stress upon Jose’s life.” 

Baumann shook his head and gazed after his ex- 
cited friend, vainly waiting for his return. Soon he 
was fast asleep. 


JOSE. 


231 


CHAPTER XVII. 

AT THE FORT. 

The evening of Mary Brown’s betrothal to Mc- 
Gregor was followed by a night passed by the girl 
in deep slumber. When late in the morning she 
awoke she felt greatly refreshed. At a glance she 
observed that Hattie had alread}^ busied herself in 
her behalf. Her negligee lay prepared near her 
couch, and on a table in the center of the room 
were the appointments of a light breakfast; yet 
despite her reviving change and the cozy aspect of 
her surroundings, she experienced a strange depres- 
sion of spirit, until after a few minutes the remem- 
brance of the day before and the promise she had 
made, came vividly back to her. She slowly arose, 
arranged her gown, and with her head resting in 
her hand, sat down in the easy-chair. She recalled 
every word that had passed between her and the 
two men, and yet to-day she was at a loss to explain 
how she had come to give a promise resignedly 
against whose fulfillment, after a single night of 
refreshing sleep, her very soul revolted. She pic- 
tured McGregor to her mind. Most women would 
have called him a handsome man; in addition, he 
possessed attributes that would have graced any of 
his sex ; he loved her — nevertheless a cold shudder 
crept over her as she thought of him as her hus- 
band. 

She arose and began pacing the fioor with restless 
strides. She said to herself that absolutely the utter 


232 


JOSE. 


prostration of her powers had caused her to become 
the victim of her father’s schemes the day before. 
McGregor, she confessed, had saved her from a 
horrible fate, had then yielded to her the choice to 
pursue whatever way she liked, and furthermore 
had offered to conduct hei^ safely across the stream; 
she herself had expressed the wish to be taken back 
to the fort, and on her arrival there had given her 
consent without evasion — and now, in the event 
that she retracted her word, since the wide solitude 
confined her to the fort more hopelessly than lock 
and key could have done, what then? What, if Mc- 
Gregor should leave her to her fate, or become im- 
patient with her for her continued resistance, and 
abandon her ; or her father, with a view to teaching 
her a severe lesson, should go away and thus expose 
her possibly to a series of trying humiliations? A 
feeling akin to despair began to rise within her, as 
thought upon thought thus crowded upon her mind ; 
involuntarily she paused in her walk and heard the 
door as it was softly opened. 

“Is my young mistress really quite better?” was 
heard the voice of the old housekeeper, who, after 
a careful look into the room, quickly entered with a 
vessel of steaming coffee. The happy smile upon 
the old woman’s features sent a pang through the 
girl’s heart. “Ah, I thought you would feel better 
after a good sleep !” 

She busily approached the table, arranging the 
breakfast and wheeling up the arm-chair. For a 
moment Mary thought of telling the housekeeper 
all, but just as abruptly she resigned her purpose. 
Of what significance to the old housekeeper was 
she, since she recognized in her only the object of 
her jfoung master’s happiness? 


JOSK 


233 


“I am stronger, Hattie, but I am still not well,” 
she said, pressing her hands against her eyes. 

The housekeeper looked up with a good-natured 
smile. 

“Not deathly ill, I hope?” she said; “at least you 
look the embodiment of good health. Eat some- 
thing and then let me notify the young gentleman ; 
certainly that will restore you.” 

Mary realized that all she might say would avail 
nothing. Therefore, as soon as the old woman had 
quited the room, feeling as she did that despite the 
load on her heart, after her sufferings of the day 
before, her body peremptorily craved its dues, she 
sat down to her breakfast. She had, however, 
scarcely satisfied her appetite with a few morsels, 
when she heard McGregor’s steps in the corridor. 
The young man entered, with a happy smile upon 
his face, and approached the girl, rising from her 
chair at his appearance, in a confident manner. 

“You are quite recovered, Mary?” he said, extend- 
ing his hand in which half mechanically she placed 
her own, but without being able to return the bright 
look with which he regarded her. 

“I feel sick and depressed,” she replied, slowly 
resuming her chair, “please sit down, sir.” 

McGregor cast a scrutinizing look into her face 
before he obeyed her invitation, and his eyes 
darkened. 

“ I came so early, Mary, because I am doubly de- 
lighted to learn of your rapid recovery,” he 
said; “you need not be told the impatience with 
which my heart urges the consummation of our 
marriage, but a more imperious cause exerts me 
to haste. I do not know if you remember from 
our former conversations the chief of the Apachps 


234 


JOSE. 


that live about the fort, who left this region in 
accordance with an agreement assumed by my 
father ; he is one of the most dangerous and deter- 
mined characters of his race, whose absence in a 
certain sense my father purchased. Well, from cer- 
tain information, whose reliability is not to be 
doubted, it appears that the fellow returned two 
days ago and is making indefatigable efforts to col- 
lect the scattered tribes, threatening the fort and 
its defenders with death and destruction. Of course 
that means scarcely more than an attempt on the 
part of a number of children to tear down a strong 
tree; nevertheless, any excesses committed in this 
neighborhood could not fail to bring our valley into 
such disrepute that its settlement necessarily would 
be greatly retarded, and hence, in order to be pre- 
pared for any emergency, Mr. Brown Will start 
upon his journey to-morrow at the remotest, will 
effect a hasty reinforcement of our men from the 
nearest military station, and only from that point 
follow up nis regular order of business. That we 
shall not be exempt from many little grievances, 
and dangers, perhaps, until the soldiers arrive, is 
plain ; but you will also realize, Mary, that now it 
has become a doubly imperious duty quickly to 
secure for you such protection as a husband alone 
can give. I had reckoned that you should want to- 
day for recreation, and arranged with your father 
to have him accompany us to-morrow morning to a 
justice of the peace at the village, and from there to 
at once continue his journey. These are presumably 
the last few hours that are left at our disposal, and 
if I had been prepared for a change so suddenly 
for the better on your part, I should kindly have 
sought to induce you to undertake the ride with us 


JOSE. 


235 


this very afternoon. From all I can see so far, so 
urgent are the circumstances that ” 

Mary suddenly, as if overpowered by a hood of 
painful emotions, raised her hand to her forehead 
and sprang up from her seat. 

“Let me have time, sir, and rest,” she replied, 
walking rapidly to the other side of the room. 

Into McGregor’s face leaped the shadow of a 
torturing pang. 

“ It was at your own request that you were taken 
back to the fort, Mary,” he said, after a momentary 
pause; “you consented deliberately and without 
force to our union — but I swear to you by my 
mother’s grave, even now I would relieve you of 
the promise you made me, if I could think of any 
way by which to secure your stay for the time to 
come, of which none can tell what may betide us. 
All in the house have been apprised of the danger 
that is drawing nigh and the force of men who are 
to escort us to the justice selected. In view of to- 
morrow’s event Hattie has actually prophesied the 
total destruction of all the redskins in the Moro 
Valley and the domestics are reveling in the con- 
templation of to-morrow’s feast. Mr. Brown, the 
only one who can be spared, must leave to obtain 
aid ” 

“Let me have time, then, until to-morrow morn, 
ing,” replied the girl, in a faltering voice, while her 
features plainly betrayed the inward struggle to 
quell her turbulent emotions. 

McGregor regarded her in silence a short time, 
then approaching her, he allowed his hand to rest 
lightly upon her shoulder for the space of a second. 

“Kf^flect for yourself, and let your decision be 
governed by your own judgment, Mary; I shall say 


236 


JOSE. 


no more to you,” he said, calmly; “one thing I 
would ask of you, however ; that you will not to- 
day give the servants cause for gossip. Show your- 
self ; take a walk around the fort in my company — 
it will give you a clear insight into the state of the 
situation and exert a surprising influence on the 
men in the time of danger that is on the threshold 
and which you will certainly have to share with us 
anyway. You may rest secure from any fear of 
familiarity on my part, nor shall anything be per- 
mitted to affect the right of your final decision.” 

“Right of decision!” answered the girl, slowly 
raising her eyes; “that means fly if you can, refuse 
if you would be destroyed in consequence.” 

“And would you blame me for the force of circum- 
stances?” cried the young man, in a tone of despair; 
“did you not accompany me across the plains of 
your own free will, or did you previously give me 
but the slightest intimation that my hopes, which 
you could not but guess, were vain?” 

“Refrain from reiterating, since after all it can 
lead to no possible good,” she said, lowering her 
head and with difficulty suppressing a sigh ; “ I will 
be ready to accompany you in an hour.” 

He left the room in silence and visibly depressed ; 
she remained standing a little while longer in the 
center of the room, gazing fixedly at the floor. A 
convulsive shudder at last seemed to creep over her 
frame; then she locked the door and approached 
the mirror to complete her toilet. A pale, suffering 
face peered at her from the glass. She almost re- 
joiced at the change ; in her odious situation, to 
which she believed herself hopelessly abandoned, it 
afforded her a cruel satisfaction. Tediously and 
with frequent interruptions, during which her 


JOSK 


237 


thoughts appeared to retard the movements of her 
hands, she finally completed dressing, and soon 
after McGregor again announced himself. He 
reached her his arm without a syllable and con- 
ducted her into the court below. It soon became 
apparent here that the usual order of work had 
been suspended. Brown, stalwart men were partly 
gathered in small groups, conversing in eager tones, 
partly scattered about the court, occupied with the 
cleaning of long-barreled rifles, and a single glance 
at the animated faces, told that some unusual oc- 
currence was expected to take place. A singu- 
lar cry, as of exultation, from those standing near- 
est, greeted Mary as with her companion she issued 
from the house ; the sound was repeated as she con- 
tinued past the various groups, while on every side 
she encountered fiery glances and heard exclama- 
tions, which she did not understand, but whose 
import was easily divined. She was touched by the 
ungarnished deference paid her by these rough 
men, and her face had lost its sorrowful expression 
and assumed its natural hue before she was herself 
fully aware of the change in her feelings. 

McGregor paused when they arrived at the re- 
mote end of the court, where McAllister was stand- 
ing in the center of a group of men engaged in 
examining the guns after they had been cleaned. 
Mary’s first look had been directed toward the 
weapons, her second glance fell upon two large, 
dark eyes that were regarding her with a steady, 
almost melancholy expression. A stripling it was, 
standing at the side of the overseer. Mary felt her- 
self strangely attracted by this youthful, finely 
featured face. 

‘‘That is the young man,” said McGregor, who 


238 


JOSA 


appeared to have followed the direction of Mary’s 
eyes; “to whom we are indebted for the first inti- 
mation of danger. He was a prisoner among the 
Apaches and only yesterday made his escape ; his 
report has been only too truthfully substantiated by 
others this morning.” 

“And it is true, then, that the danger is so immi- 
nent?” Mary asked, obeying the necessity of at 
least uttering a few words. 

“If all passes off quietly to-morrow,” answered 
the lad, regarding her with his former open steady 
look, “the guards may keep a sharp lookout the suc- 
ceeding night. Matopah was in council last night 
with his sub-chiefs and those yet absent were looked 
for to-day.” 

“They will find us prepared while you shall be 
well rewarded, my boy!” McGregor said, resuming 
his round of inspection. 

Mary could not refrain from looking back, and, 
with a feeling for which she herself could not ac- 
count, discovered the youth still following her with 
his eyes. Soon, however, the contemplation of her 
own situation eradicated every foreign thought. 

In the door of the main building the old house- 
keeper was standing, rubbing her hands in gleeful 
satisfaction, and announcing to the approaching 
couple that the dinner-table was waiting; as for 
the Indians, turning to Mary, she begged her to 
have no alarm; she herself had witnessed many a 
sorry time with the redskins, but she had learned 
that none had derived less benefit from it than those 
who gave rise to it. 

Brown was already at the table when the trio 
entered the dining-room, and excused himself on 
the grounds that he yet had many arrangements to 


JOSE, 


239 


make for his purposed journey. He appeared igno- 
rant of McGregor’s consultation with Mary that 
morning, treated the projected excursion to the 
justice of the peace on the morrow as a determined 
fact, and entering into business details conducted 
the conversation afc the table chiefly alone. As 
Mary arose, McGregor conducted her to the door 
of her room. 

“I shall not annoy you with another word to- 
day,” he said, giving her hand a gentle pressure. 
“To-morrow, before daybreak, your father leaves, 
and Hattie will be with you in good season so that 
you can prepare yourself. What, if you listen to 
the voice of necessity, awaits you I can tell you at 
once,” he continued, with increased tenderness; “it 
is all in the power of a man to render you satisfled 
and happy. What, on the other hand. Providence 
will shape if you determine to take up your resi- 
dence apart from us whose only home this fort is, I 
do not know nor care to think. May God guide your 
heart, Mary.” 

He again pressed the hand that lay cold and 
inertly in his own, then gazed after the girl turning 
away from him without even raising her eyes, until 
the closing door concealed her from his view. With 
a deep-drawn breath he then re-entered the dining- 
room. 

When Mary was again alone, she locked the door 
and flung herself upon her bed, hiding her face in 
the pillow. She realized how useless it was to op- 
pose fate. To-day she might struggle like a captive 
bird trying to discover some avenue of escape, while 
torturing herself with feverish resolutions, yet to- 
morrow she knew she would despite all yield to her 
lover’s prayers, for there was no longer an alterna- 


240 


JOSE. 


tive. She sought to accustom herself to the thought 
of the morrow, that she might be prepared to meet 
demurely the inevitable ; she strove to see McGregor 
as he had appeared at their first meeting in the East 
without an attendant feeling of aversion; she re- 
called the scene in the court-yard to-day, the de- 
ference paid her by the rude men who already 
regarded her as their mistress — but in the midst of 
these heroic endeavors a feeling as of despair filled 
her heart, destroying every advantage that she 
had succeeded in gaining, until it seemed that she 
could never be happy again. And then with fevered 
brain she began carefully to inspect the circum- 
stances by which she was surrounded and to place 
them separately before her, hoping against hope to 
hit upon some safety-promising expedient by which 
to escape her doom; but like a frightful specter 
staring her in the face was the thought of her 
isolated position at the fort should she again re- 
fuse — without protection from the grossly insulted 
host and the grieved housekeeper, subjected to all 
manner of humiliations, whose character she had 
not even been able rightly to conceive as yet, and 
so far from improving her condition, leaving her 
without a hope of getting away even then. 

It was toward evening that Hattie announced 
herself at the door. Mary started up out of her 
brooding thoughts, surprised as she noticed how 
late it was, and admitted the housekeeper. 

“Now my young mistress must take tea,” said the 
kind old woman, entering with a waiter covered 
with cups and toast ; “ after which you can retire. 
Shortly after midnight you are to start so as to 
enable you and your husband to be back in good 
season. It is on account of the Indians, you know ; 


JOS± 


241 


but you needn’t feel frightened about that. And 
now while you sit here,” she added, arranging the 
table, “ I will set about getting ready the things you 
are to wear to-morrow.” 

Mary had sat down to her lunch for the purpose 
rather of concealing her nervousness than from any 
physical requirements, while the old woman had 
opened the large trunk and began to inspect its con- 
tents. 

“This will be done away with to-morrow,” she 
said ; “ I have had the wardrobe, a magnificent piece 
of furniture which the old gentleman had made 
shortly before his death, moved into the young gen- 
tleman’s room, which will be your sleeping apart- 
ment in the future. Before your return to-morrow I 
will have everything arranged there in splendid 
order. And now. Miss Mary, let the old woman 
have her own way in preparing your dress. It is 
sad enough that we cannot have a festive marriage 
at the church as is meet for a McGregor, and that 
the ragged justice of the peace with his dirty hands 
must necessarily have to take the place of the 
clergyman, but you sha’n’t ride away as if it were 
only for a pleasure trip. I have already seen that 
the young gentleman properly observes the great 
day.” 

“Decorate the paschal lamb!” Mary felt inpelled 
to cry out, but she suppressed it. “Do as you like !” 
she said, getting slowly up from her chair. “I 
shall retire at once ; I require rest, regardless of the 
fact that I must rise at such an early hour to- 
morrow.” 

“lam not at all surprised,” the old woman said, 
nodding, and carefully placing the articles which 
she was taking out of the trunk together by them- 


242 


JOSE. 


selves. But another slight effort to-morrow morn- 
ing and Hattie will not permit you to get up from 
your chair until the May roses again be blooming 
on your cheeks.” 

The housekeeper had left the room and Mary 
began to disrobe. Gradually she began to experi- 
ence an utter prostration of mind and body, a cold 
indifference to whatever might betide her, that was 
in a manner refreshing. She pondered no longer, 
she tortured herself no more with anxious con- 
jectures for the future ; lying in her bed, she closed 
her eyes and sleep stole fast upon her, soothing her 
afflicted mind into sweet oblivion. 

The stars were high in the azure canopy, touched 
by the pale light of the quartered moon, when be- 
fore the gates of the fort a stately group of horse- 
men halted. It was fully one-half of the combined 
defenders of the fort, well armed with rifles and 
long knives. One step removed from this group 
three riderless horses were being held in check by a 
groom. A stream of light suddenly fell through the 
gate, and in the glare of two flickering torches Mc- 
Gregor and Mary, followed by her father, appeared. 
McAllister and Hattie were standing beneath the 
archway, from this point viewing the departure of 
the company. The bride was dressed in a light 
gray silk that displayed her rich, youthful charms, 
a sparkling brooch connecting a hanging lace collar 
at her throat ; from beneath the small riding hat 
protruded the thick, folded braids of her glossy 
hair, but a marble paleness covered her face that in 
the light of the glaring torches looked ghastly. Mc- 
Gregor appeared in the dress of the civilized world, 
but having assisted his fair companion on the back 
of the patient pony and folded her in a light wrap, 


JOSE. 


24 ) 


he buckled the belt that was held in readiness with 
its long knife about his waist, and accepted his 
double-barreled rifle from the hands of one of the 
domestics. The next instant the party was on its 
way to the village Mary riding at the head between 
her father and her lover. Crossing the stream at 
the ford, they pursued the trail barely visible in the 
dim starlight, at a moderate canter. With a dense 
scowl and compressed lips, as if he would suppress 
some bitter sensation, McGregor at long intervals 
would take his e5'es from the faintly lighted sur- 
roundings and steal a look at his pale companion. 

“Have you not a word to say to me, Mary?” he 
said after a while, in a low tone. 

She slowly turned her face to him. 

“I have done as good as you wished, sir,” she 
answered, in a voice totally bereft of its former 
tone; “do you now ask more?” 

Those were the only words uttered during the en- 
tire ride ; even Brown appeared to feel uncomfort- 
able and gave vent to his pent-up feelings in an 
occasional rasping cough. 

A faint gray was tinging the eastern horizon 
when they reached the village, the same toward 
which Mary had aimed as the safety-promising 
harbor three days previous. The entire settlement 
consisted of a small number of clay-cabins, the 
largest of which distinguished itself from the rest 
by a glass window in which a faint light was shin- 
ing. That was the chief warehouse, post-office, and 
the justice’s quarters combined, honors jointly con- 
ferred upon one man, a Yankee by birth, regarding 
all of New Mexican lineage with sovereign con- 
tempt. 

The door of the only room in the house was 


244 


‘ JOS± 


opened at McGregor’s first tap. One look was suffi- 
cient to show that the arrivals had been expected. 
Far as they were enabled to see by the only light in 
the room it was evident that a momentary degree 
of order had been introduced among the many 
different articles heaped about; upon a raw table, 
apparently serving its owner in every possible 
capacity, were pens, paper, and ink, and the assist- 
ant who had opened the door had only gently to 
shake the justice to startle him out of his sleep that 
had irresistibly overpowered him. The ceremony 
was exceedingly short. Mary mechanically com- 
plied with every request that was put to her, and 
after ten minutes the marriage was declared con- 
summated. Brown pressed a kiss upon the cold, 
pale brow of the young woman, saying . 

“ I know that you will be happy, child, if you but 
desire. Place your faith in your own judgment and 
your husband henceforth more than in your roman- 
tic notions, and you will yet bless this hour. We 
shall be parted for many a month, but when I re- 
turn let me find the roses of happiness in full bloom 
upon your cheeks.” 

He led her to the young man, who had stepped 
back, and who clasped her hand in a warm pres- 
sure, drew her toward him, and kissed her lips. She 
permitted it, coldly, movelessly. He gazed into her 
lack-luster eyes and a trace of alarm darkened his 
brow. 

‘‘Would you not like something to refresh you, 
Mary?” he asked, tenderly, “or else the ride will 
greatly fatigue you.” 

Merely shaking her head, she turned toward the 
door as if she wished, above all, to quit the house. 


JOSK 


*246 


‘‘Go— it will be best!” Brown said. “Our affairs 
are settled, and so good-by.” 

They shook hands, and McGregor led his wife 
back to the waiting horses. 

The sun had risen brightly, and they were more 
than half way back to the fort. McGregor had 
several times endeavored to enter into conversation 
with his fair companion, but he had only received a 
cold, “ Spare me until we get home,” in reply. He 
was beginning to entertain serious apprehensions 
concerning the girTs condition, when a rider came 
dashing toward them in advance of their body- 
guard following at a short distance. 

“They are here, sir; look yonder I” he cried before 
he had yet reached McGregor’s side. The addressed 
started up, gazed across the stream in the direction 
indicated by the other’s finger, and suddenly seized 
the bridle of his companion’s horse. 

The ridges on the opposite side of the stream were 
alive with Indians, galloping about in wild con- 
fusion. It was apparent that the whites had only 
been discovered that moment, for single, wild, and 
plainly audible shouts were now wafted across from 
the other shore. McGregor appeared to have taken 
in the situation at a glance. 

“Straight ahead as fast as the horses can go, but 
stick together,” he cried back. “The river separates 
us and will check them until we can get near enough 
the fort to count on assistance.” And seizing hold 
of his companion’s bridle he dashed on ahead. A 
chorus of exulting howls followed them from the 
opposite shore, 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

EXPLANATIONS. 

A bright morning was dawning on a green valley, 
the first real green which the four adventurers had 
sighted since leaving the Apache village. Many 
days of privations and fatigue intervened between 
them and their starting point, during which their 
march led them through a seeming:ly endless waste 
of sand and stone. Not until five days after striking 
the Santa Fe wagon trail had they fallen in with a 
caravan, whose owner, apprised of the fate of their 
own train gave them a warm reception, while the 
mules were transferred to his keeping, with the 
understanding that he would dispose of them at 
Santa Fe in the interest of the robbed caravan own- 
ers. The following day the four companions, 
plentifully supplied with all they required, rode 
away and soon left the wagon train far in their 
rear. 

They had now reached the point where the final 
promontories of the Rocky Mountains stretched 
away toward the edge of the trail. A turbulent 
little stream shot downward among the crags, in a 
hidden green valley near which they made camp 
after a trying night’s ride. Yet despite the fact 
that they had had no rest, none of the men appeared 
disposed to sleep. The early meal had been dis- 
patched. and Dutch Bill with evident satisfaction 
had lighted a short pipe, while Green was lying ex- 
tended in the grass but a short distance away, 
gazing up into the sky that was slowly being illu' 


JOSE. 


247 


minated by the first beams of the rising sun. 
Baumann was striding up and down, as if to exer- 
cise his stiffened joints, patting the necks of the 
herding horses that now were well saddled and 
bridled, while the old hunter was still seated at the 
smoldering fire apparently wrapped in solemn 
thought. The young German finally remained stand- 
ing at the latter’s side. “ Have you the shadow of a 
hope that we shall yet find the trail?” he asked, 
somewhat embarrassed. 

The addressed slowly directed his look at Green 
and the freighter, then, arising, he started off to- 
ward the gulch with a look at Baumann. 

“I must say to you,” he began, sitting down on 
a bowlder, “ that long as I have been on the plains I 
never felt so strange as this morning; it is as 
though I ought no longer try to hunt up that young 
woman, and let the matter rest with her attempted 
rescue that failed. Sit down here,” he continued, 
passing his hand across his face. “Perhaps I shall 
feel better after talking out. Something seems to 
tell me that I am not worthy to exert myself in be- 
half of those of my own kind. But of course you 
don’t understand me,” he interrupted himself, sup- 
porting his head in his hands while silently gazing 
down before him. 

Baumann regarded these weather-bronzed feat- 
ures, in which the deeply impressed mark of energy 
was slowly dissolving into a look of singular soft- 
ness, with studious interest. 

“Speak out. Bob,” he said; “it will do you good, 
and remember you promised me. Days such as we 
have passed through quickly create sympathy 
among men, and I think you have learned to know 


248 


JOSK 


The old man gazed down before him as if he were 
occupied with himself, then silently nodded. 

‘‘I might as well tell it,” he quietly began. ‘‘I 
have been a man who despised himself, but it is 
also true that I received my education among peo- 
ple as disreputable as any on the shores of the Mis- 
sissippi. My home was the street, my bed a corner 
in any old river boat. If anything kept me from 
falling to a level of the lowest it was an inherent 
sensibility that came to me from my parents — that 
reproached me and would have made a better man 
of me but for the circumstances by which I was 
surrounded. But I lost my parents at a tender age, 
and all that I knew of myself was my Christian 
name. Then I fell into the keeping of a man, a 
devil in human form, who betrayed me into the 
commission of my first evil act, the nature of which 
I had not known before, but which kept me in 
bondage forever after' like a slave in chains, and 
for fear of the discovery of my first transgression, 
from thence onward rapidly sped me down a career 
of manifold crimes. A family of Germans had 
landed in St. Louis — an aged grandmother and her 
children and grandchildren. Doubtless some sinis- 
ter plot menaced them for I was deputized a spy to 
watch their movements. For all that I was in igno- 
rance of what was going to take place, no kind of 
work had even appeared so odious to me as this. 
When I gazed into the faces of the Germans it was 
as if I were driving traffic with my own blood — but 
the noose was securely attached to me, and I could 
only obey. The aged grandmother died of the 
cholera, but she appeared to have taken secrets 
with her into the grave which should have to be 
e:2^humed, One stormy night I received orders to 


JOSE, 


249 


open a certaia grave and to search for papers on 
the body of the corpse. I tried to shirk the task, but 
certain ruin staring me in the face whenever I re- 
fused, conquered my resistance. I opened the vault, 
and recognized the old woman who had appealed to 
my affections more than any one else in the family. 
Terror seized me — I abhorred myself; I lacked 
strength to cover the grave, and suddenly I saw the 
hand of the dead protrude from the earth as if it 
would clasp me. This aged woman, whom I had 
wickedly torn from her grave,” Bob continued, in a 
dull, toneless voice, “was my own mother.” 

He paused and looked fixedly at his feet. 

“ I was not apprised of the terrible truth until 
afterward,” he finally resumed, “but even at the 
time when I did not know it, the affair made such 
an impression on me that I vowed to release myself 
of my chains. I became attached to the German 
family and did what I could for them as if that 
would atone for my crime against their parent. 
They received me as a brother, seeing only my 
candid face, not knowing the history of my past 
life. My tormentor, whom at the risk of my life I 
had refused obedience any longer, possibly thinking 
I knew too much about him, in a fierce dispute con- 
trived to inflict a slight wound upon my hand with 
his favorite weapon, a small, poisoned dirk. Fortu- 
nately I knew the qualities of the toy, and before 
the poison had had time to spread I had severed 
my swollen hand from my arm with an ax. I had 
done this in the Germans’ house, and when the 
doctor, who had been hastily summoned to attend 
me, stripped the bleeding stump of coat and shirt, 
the head of the family suddenly espied on my arm a 
tattooed design that has been there ever sipcp I can 


250 


JOSE, 


remember — just such a design as every son in the 
family bore, as also a long-lost child that disap- 
peared about the time father, who subsequently 
died in Germany, undertook his first visit to Amer- 
ica. All this may sound incredible and yet it is 
only the plain truth — I had found my brothers and 
their children — but now I also realized that I had 
desecrated my mother’s grave. 

“I recovered,” he continued, with a deep breath, 
“and had a home and relatives. One of my 
brothers’ sons returned from California, with gold 
and the identical young woman who, in man’s 
attire now terms herself Jose, but whose right name 
is Pepita. The mortgaged farm was released, and 
I had need no longer of care. But the thought of 
what I had done and been in the past ever haunted 
me like a specter. I realized that I was not good 
enough to associate with those harmless, righteous 
people, and I firmly believed that some day I should 
unexpectedly be punished for hoping to reap good 
where I had sown evil. One of my most fierce men- 
tal conflicts was the night wherein I determined to 
bury my past life, to plunge into the wilderness 
where man is judged for what he is and where no 
one is asked what he has been, and to become of 
service where yet so much was left undone. Among 
the Indians on the plains, amid dangers and pri- 
vations, I thought I should find peace and happi- 
ness again — but while life endures oblivion is im- 
possible.” 

He sighed and paused. 

“I proceeded to the Kickapoo Indians on the 
border of Missouri,” he at last continued; “I had 
solemnly pledged myself to serve wherever an op- 
portunity offered, but it was har^ work to reason 


JOSE. 


251 


with a redskin where the question of his indepen- 
dence was involved. I possessed what they mostly 
admire — physical strength and braveness ; they 
hunted with me, they honored me, they dubbed me 
Iron Fist, from the knob which I had had attached 
to the stump of my arm and arranged so as to serve 
me in many capacities, besides proving an admi- 
rable weapon — yet that was the limit of my influence. 
They were incensed against the white settlements 
steadily extending their incursions into their land, 
and failure attended every effort made to induce 
them to found permanent habitations and practice 
agriculture. Many fierce encounters ensued with 
the settlers and the soldiers of Fort Leavenworth, 
and when I sought to point out to them the folly of 
their proceedings and the inevitability of their final 
ruin, near as they were to a vast white population, I 
was regarded as a traitor who would bear watching. 
One night three whites were found dead with their 
skulls crushed. The manner of the outrage plainly 
indicated the Indians, and the commandant an- 
nounced his intention to have the murderers de- 
livered into his keeping. Accordingly he sent for 
me and demanded that I should guide the soldiers 
to the lair of the Indians. I realized what was in- 
tended. To adjust the murder by means of another 
of twenty times the atrocity. I informed the officer 
that I was going to Missouri the following morning. 
This was true. I had hit upon a plan which should 
in the future result in the safety of the whites and 
bring the Indians to their senses. Late that night 
I found the place of gathering of the Kickapoos. I 
met a larger congregation than I had anticipated, 
and was hailed with loud cries of delight. What 
had passed between me and the commandant was 


252 


JOSE. 


already known in minute details, and seemed to 
have inspired them with the genuine confidence. 
The red men had better facilities than was dreamed 
of at the fort. I requested to speak with a chief. I 
told him he might prepare his tribe for a terrible 
visitation. I claimed to be gifted by nature with 
power to feel the approach of the evil spiri , and 
consequently felt convinced that the murder of the 
three innocent victims would be terribly avenged 
upon the entire tribe. I intended leaving in order 
to escape the speedy doom. The Indians are a 
nation of children where they have no grounds to 
suspect the truth of a prophecy, and at first my 
loudly uttered words acted like a stunning blow 
upon them. Groups were formed, and soon I per- 
ceived that some kind of a question had been raised 
that was causing a great deal of fierce dispute. 
Suddenly one of the oldest warriors approached me, 
his eyes fairly sparkling with rage, and asked me if 
I thought I could palliate the evil spirit if the mur- 
derers of the whites were delivered to the fort. I 
quickly saw how matters stood. Their ever active 
sense of suspicion had made them conceive the idea 
that I might after all be in collusion with the com- 
mandant and was trying to effect the delivery of 
the offenders by threats; I also felt convinced from 
the disturbed looks of the Indian before me that if 
he were not actually one of the murderers himself 
he certainly was one of their nearest relatives. I 
knew him and also the spot where the wigwams of 
that part of the tribe were located that was in his 
charge; but I guarded my face and kept my 
thoughts to myself. 

‘“Will it undo the crime if the offenders are re- 
signed to their enemy, or will that recall the dead?’ 


JOSA 


253 


I said, shaking my head. ‘The evil spirit looks at 
the act and repentance comes too late. I came 
hither not to give counsel, but to bid farewell and 
tell you why I leave. When your penance shall be 
ended then will I return, and perhaps you will give 
heed unto Iron Fist’s words before it be too late.’ 
With that I strode away over the dark plain and 
the deep silence that followed plainly told the state 
of the Indians’ feelings. 

“I had not thought,” the speaker again resumed, 
after a brief pause, “that my early association with 
criminals should one day fit me for a noble task. I 
recollected a depraved druggist who had possibly 
for some time previous been practicing almost any- 
thing but by his potion restoring the ailing. I still 
had money left which was sufficient to enlist the 
service of mankind. Not a week passed until a 
Missouri boat had again put me on shore at Fort 
Leavenworth. In air-tight receptacles inside of my 
knapsack I carried concealed death for man and 
beast — prussic acid and the Indian bane, strychnine, 
enough to have exterminated the Kickapoos and all 
surrounding tribes. But that was not my purpose. 
I had also obtained a bait, as in times gone by it 
was employed by western horse thieves — an essence, 
the smell of which causes a ho^’se irresistibly to yield. 
You will perceive that I meant to strike through 
the dearest thing the prairie Indian possesses, 
that which he cherishes above wife and child — his 
horse. In the dark of night I sought out the wig- 
wams of that portion of the tribe in which I sus- 
pected the murderers, and the next morning thirty 
horses were lying dead in their tracks — ten for each 
man slain. 

“I did not show myself for two days after. I 


254 


JOSK 


had guessed correctly the home of the offenders, 
and unexpected as was the blow and mysterious the 
manner of the animals’ death, the effect was mar- 
velous. I heard the name. Prairie Devil, pro- 
nounced by many pale lips, and at once took the 
hint whom I should have to represent when occa- 
sion required. Thence onward there was peace be- 
tween white and red. A project had been formed 
among the missions of the Potawatomie Indians to 
found a school among the Kickapoos. Despite the 
discouraging accounts rendered them by the com- 
mandant, the missionaries came and started a large 
farm right in the heart of the Kickapoo reservation. 
The Indians avoided them, but they remained un- 
molested. I earnestly took the matter in hand, for 
I had since obtained great influence ; the mission- 
aries were shrewd and did not commence by holding 
up Christianity, but by offering presents to all who 
consented to learn agriculture and send their chil- 
dren to school ; and thus it was that soon the cause 
was on the high road to success. The Prairie Devil, 
of course, had been chiefly instrumental in bringing 
affairs to this turn. 

“ Why do I relate all this?” Bob interrupted him- 
self, lowering his head. “ I have indulged the be- 
lief that since I am away from the whites I endeav- 
ored, according to my powers, to do good and to 
prevent evil, either in the role of Iron Fist or the 
Prairie Devil. What I undertook was crowned with 
success, and it almost seemed that thus I was per- 
mitted to make amends for my early years and 
spend my declining age in comfort. The first time 
I felt a sort of longing for home was when Pepita 
stood at my side on the far stretching prairie as 
suddenly as if she had fallen from the clouds, and 


JOSE. 


255 


almost as abruptly ^as carried out of reach by the 
Indian. I may he superstitious, but so are all un- 
happy people. To me the appearance of my niece 
was like a signal that I was on the eve of starting 
upon my last enterprise, and might then return 
where long a vacant chair is waiting to receive me. 
We started, and everything passed off satisfactorily 
— yet when the finishing stroke was to be executed, 
when I was ready to accept the rescue of the young 
woman as the assurance that I had been forgiven — 
every undertaking failed. The Apache had taken 
down his wigwam and disappeared — one day sooner 
and we would have found him fast asleep. We fol- 
lowed his trail — but I am surely yet unworthy to 
think of home and happiness, for where never I 
erred before I allowed myself to be deceived by false 
signs until we had ample reason to congratulate 
ourselves upon having succeeded in making our 
way out of the wilderness and recovering the wagon 
trail. But I will not yet abandon — ” 

He suddenly paused and looked up. 

“Did you hear nothing?” he turned to Baumann, 
who raised his head in surprise at the sudden move- 
ment. 

“The report of a gun,” he replied, turning his 
smiling countenance upon the hunter, as though he 
were bent on pacifying him. “The chances are 
that we shall be permitted to enjoy fresh meat after 
a long time—” 

At this juncture his words were suddenly cut short 
by a succession of shots in the distance. Bob sprang 
to his feet. 

“That certainly sounds as if it were going into 
fresh meat,” he cried, while his face resumed its 
wonted look of fierce energy. “Those shots can only 


256 JOSK 

be intended for the redskins, and we may be just in 
time — away!” 

He hastened toward the mouth of the gulch where 
he found Green and the freighter already on the 
alert. 

“Be gone!” he cried. “Have your rifles ready 
and your knives loose; the stump of my arm is 
itching oddly and that is a familiar sign.” 

Without stopping to ask any questions the others 
hurriedly mounted, while Bob was eagerly listening 
to the occasional report of a gun drawing steadily 
nearer. 

* “It is on this side of the river!” he said; “but 
since we are conflned in here like wolves in a trap 
I reckon I had better just take a peep at our sur- 
roundings.” 

He was quickly off the back of his horse, and 
throwing the lines to the freighter, he began adroitly 
ascending the steep cliff at the top of which he dis- 
appeared. 

“That appears to be an encounter as fierce as 
any we had ourselves!” Green observed as they 
distinctly heard the dying sound of a chorus of dis- 
cordant howls in the distance. 

“I hope it will prove reliable,” muttered Bill, ex- 
amining the hammer of his rifle. “I have yet a 
score to discharge that is due to myself, unless I 
care to appear a scamp in the estimation of every 
ill-bred Mormon.” 

For the space of several minutes they anxiously 
listened for the repetition of the sounds, when their 
attention was again turned toward the hunter who 
had stepped into view, visibly excited, and now 
thoughtlessly glided down into the grass. 

“ It is the red coyotes, and the white man who is 


JOSK 


257 


menaced,” he cried. “Four men are few, but they 
can accomplish much at the right time. Who 
chooses to assist Old Bob come along. Straight out 
to them!” 

He was on the back of his horse before he had 
finished speaking, and was speeding toward the 
mouth of the gulch without looking back. Close 
behind was Dutch Bill, who appeared to have only 
waited for the signal, and side by side the two 
chums brought up the rear. 

They had barely reached the open plain at a, point 
near the stream, when they were made to fully real- 
ize the situation. A band of probably twenty 
mounted whites had been cut off by a large body of 
Indians. The assailed had covered thew backs by 
a high ridge, and judging from a number of riderless 
horses galloping aimlessly about, had boldly re- 
sented the attack ; but on the opposite shore other 
forces of Indians were constantly appearing, readily 
effecting a crossing and combining with the assail- 
ants. 

“They must be crushed!” Bob called back, reining 
in his steed. “ Let each man cover his game and 
then straight into them with butt or blade, just so 
we give them room. Surprise has done a great 
many incredulous things. Up with your rifies — 
now!” 

Loudly the death-dealing rifies rang out in con- 
cert, and ^ith the knife between his teeth and the 
heavy gun swung aloft like a huge club, Bob dashed 
on in advance of his followers, straight toward the 
scene of battle. 


JOSE, 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THEIR JOURNEY'S END. 

On first discovering the Indians, McGregor had 
well-founded reasons for hoping to escape them. 
He knew that for speed his horses were equal to 
those of the Indians, that the savages would only in 
vastly superior numbers venture to engage with a 
band of men familiar with the use of fire-arms, and 
furthermore, he felt confident that they would not 
trust themselves near the fort For some minutes 
their horses flew on at a rate as to leave the Indians, 
just crossing the stream, far in their rear; but it 
soon became evident that Mary’s short-legged pony 
was not equal to the requirement of speed. As if he 
were cognizant of the danger, the animal strained 
every effort to keep pace with thb other horses, but 
nevertheless McGregor was soon compelled to 
check his own steed in order not to lose Mary from 
his side. He saw a portion of the Indians steadily 
gaining ground on the other shore of the stream, 
without daring: to entertain a thought of halting 
and making different arrangements. ,Soon he recog- 
nized a shallow point in the stream before him that 
was familiar, toward which the Indians were evi- 
dently aiming — observed that they readily effected 
a crossing and knew that that cut off his last hope 
of escape. His eye swept the surroundings. Turn- 
ing his head he indicated a perpendicular ridge to 
his followers, the majority of whom had already 
conceived the state of affairs, and within ten min- 
utes a double and narrow semicircle had been formed 


JOSE. 


259 


at that point, from every side of which the gun bar- 
rels protruded in menacing array. 

“ Keep a watch on the ford and shoot down who- 
ever shows himself there!” cried McGregor, who 
was standing within the circle before his pale com- 
panion, as if he were determined to protect her 
with his body; at the same time was heard the 
crack of his rifle and the horse of an Indian, who 
was in the act of dashing up the shore, was seen to 
make a convulsive leap backward into the water. 

The shot was answered by a wild howl as of an 
enraged beast, from both sides of the stream ; the 
Indians could plainly be seen along the entire 
length of the opposite shore, urging their horses into 
the water, regardless of the depth, those who had 
crossed joining in a body and with lances leveled 
sweeping toward them with the speed of the whirl- 
wind. A volley received them, scattering them to 
retreat, leaving men and wounded horses writhing 
on the ground; but just beyond range they again 
formed an aggressive position. McGregor was dis- 
mayed to see the Indians, fording the deep stream, 
momentarily increase in number, a short distance 
up the trail, and flnding himself surrounded on 
every side, was compelled to acknowledge that in 
his present position it was impossible to check the 
joint onslaught of the two forces. 

Slowly the savages pressed on ; they seemed deter- 
mined again to expose themselves to the rifles of the 
defenders and subsequently to crush the little band 
of whites by the force of superior numbers. Mc- 
Gregor swept the surroundings for a way of escape. 
Suddenly the crack of rifles was heard up the trail, 
a wild commotion ensued in a wing of the Indians 
there stationed, and as if a cannon ball had abruptly 


260 


JOSE. 


plowed its way through the surging mass, a passage 
was formed, through which four white riders, headed 
by a giant figure, were making their way. 

“Into ’em men, lively, or they’ll crack your 
heads like rats in a trap!” the foremost cried, bran- 
dishing his clubbed rifle. “Here’s a way open; let 
’em have it now, all around, and then straight at 
’em! Eeady! Fire!” 

The sudden appearance of Bob and his three com- 
panions acted like a charm upon the distressed 
whites. The guns rung out with promptness, 
as if he it was who alone had a right to obe- 
dience in that moment of suspense. McGregor, 
whose momentary feeling of undetermination ap- 
peared to have required nothing save impulse such 
as it had received, had wheeled the horse of a man 
standing next to him about and cried : 

“ The lady between us ! If we get through, you 
ride away with her.” 

He had barely finished speaking when through 
the rolling powder smoke Bob was heard to exclaim 
in a sonorous tone, “Follow me!” And as if in- 
spired with sudden confidence, the little band hurled 
itself upon the surprised redskins, pressing on at a 
point below. Here the rifle volley had caused sad 
havoc among the assailants, and as Bob, with the 
roar of a lion, came tearing on, firmly seated upon 
the back of his powerful charger, knocking four or 
five lances that were pointed at his breast, high up 
in the air with a single stroke of his improvised 
club, his horse at one bound leaping into the very 
midst of the confused mass and opening a wide 
breach for those following, a panic seemed sud- 
denly to have taken possession of the Indians, for 
they scattered to all sides, bent on evading the 


JosA 


261 


destructive circle described by his rifle, giving and 
warding off blows with quick dexterity. Hardly 
had Bob shaken off his aggressors when he sent his 
rifle whirling into the midst of those yet impeding 
his way, dashing after it, his long blade in hand. 
His roar was again heard and away from his side 
broke the Indians in wild dismay. 

They had cut their way through ; but scarcely did 
the whites And themselves free, when Bob again 
wheeled his steaming horse about. 

“ Load your guns and get ready ! Let’s into ’em 
again before they get time to think!” he cried, in a 
voice that could not but sound distinctly upon each 
deafened ear. “Be lively about it; yonder comes 
the other party. We’ll have to scatter ’em to save 
ourselves. Ready — fire!” 

This second troop, advancing at a gallop, had 
been prevented from rapidly approaching by the 
sudden confusion of the first ; the last volley seemed 
to have yet increased the panic, but when Bob and 
his hardy little band burst into the very thickest of 
the redskins, dealing death and ruin everywhere; 
when the Indians retreated wherever his voice was 
heard, in superstitious awe and without even using 
their weapons, and part of them were beginning to 
seek safety in flight across the river, a wild cry 
suddenly rose in response to the old man’s voice, 
seeming to inspire the retreating redskins with a 
reviving change. At a single glance Bob seemed to 
recognize what was taking place. 

“Into them without fear,” he roared; “yonder 
comes the man I am in quest of ; he shall not escape 
me again.” 

The Indian uttered a wild cry as he singled out 
the hunter from among his companions, and draw- 


262 


JOSK 


ing back for a blow, he urged his horse to a mighty 
leap; downward plunged the battle-ax, but with a 
loud metallic sound it rebounded from Bob’s up- 
lifted fist, who quick as thought, hurled himself 
upon his foeman with a long knife. The Indian, 
however, adroit and limber as a snake, evaded the 
blow, wheeled his horse about and an instant after 
was renewing his attack from the other side. While 
Bob succeeded in eluding the lunge, he yet was forced 
to confess, as his antagonist easily escaped him a 
second time, that he was no match for the other in 
point of horsemanship, and that if he did not wish 
to be separated from his friends and be lured amung 
the redskins, he should have to bide his time and 
for the present content himself with taking the de- 
fensive. One glance furthermore convinced him 
that the redskins were again beginning to rally, 
that a murderous fight between tomahawk and 
knife was raging all around him, that there was 
imminent danger of the little band being completely 
surrounded, and that a bold stroke should have to 
be carried out to prevent the fight from terminating 
in the total destruction of the whites. He felt ag- 
gravated as the chief again came dashing toward 
him and suddenly turning aside, began to ride round 
him in a circle. 

“Go in!” he cried to his friends, wheeling, his 
horse so as to face the savage, determined to decide 
the battle by a hand-to-hand conflict. 

Again the chief leaped lightly aside, watching 
every movement of his antagonist with a similar 
look. At that juncture cries of exultation w’^ere 
heard from the Indians near by. Yonder must have 
been a fatal issue for the whites, and with a cry of 
rage Bob renewed his attack upon his antagonist. 


JOSK 


263 


with thoughtless indifference to his own safety, 
narrowly watching his every movement and forcing 
him continually farther back among the Indians. 
At that moment distant and varied cries were 
heard. The hunter did not hear them ; the Indian, 
on the contrary, involuntarily turned his head. 
Only an instant had the unguarded movement en- 
dured, but it had been sufficient for the hunter’s 
knife; with a piercing scream the wounded chief 
fell from the back of his horse and with a responsive 
shout of victory Bob plunged his heels into his 
horse’s flanks. Even while in the first impulse of 
alarm the redskins fell back before the strokes of 
his knife and the wildly plunging horse, yet the 
enemy, separating him from the remainder of the 
whites, steadily increased in numbers. Suddenly 
he stimulated his animal to a mighty effort while a 
loud war-whoop pealed from his lips. Through the 
din there came a triumphant shout : 

“Give it to them. Uncle Bob. We are here too!” 

In obedience to a sudden pressure of the hunter’s 
thighs, the horse gave a mighty bound, carrying 
him directly into the midst of the redskins ; at the 
same time was heard the thundering crash of a 
volley from without, that was quickly followed by 
loud cries of attack. As if by supernatural inter- 
vention, the hunter suddenl}^ found his track clear, 
the Indians dispersing in every direction until 
stream and hills were literally covered with fleeing 
foes. 

When the hunter recovered from his first surprise, 
he scanned the plain that had so suddenly been 
cleared. A familiar voice— Jose’s, or rather, Pe- 
pita’s, had sounded in his ears, provided it was not 
all a delusion ; but in the desolate scene presented 


264 


JOSK 


to his view, he could hardly distinguish anything. 
The bodies of men and animals filled the immediate 
vicinity of the trail where but shortly before the 
fight had raged, and between these he saw the 
whites seated at short distances apart, or gathering 
into small groups. At the first glance Bob dis- 
covered that at least double the number of men 
were on the field than had originally engaged in 
the fight. He saw the largest portion of these 
gather at a certain point and was in the act of 
turning his steps in that direction, when suddenly 
he encountered Baumann, rising from the ground. 
Several men were together in the grass, side by 
side. The next instant the old hunter was out of 
the saddle at his companion’s side. Baumann, 
silently extending his hand, pointed with the other 
at the ground, where two men were lying extended 
in the disturbed grass. From the side of the first a 
broad-shouldered figure arose with a shake of the 
head, and Bob’s gaze fell upon the familiar features 
of the freighter, now covered with clotted blood. A 
blow with a tomahawk had split his skull up to his 
forehead. ' 

“ He honestly discharged the debt he believed he 
owed!” Baumann said, in a muffled tone; “it’s 
doubtful whether I should have escaped whole and 
hearty as I did had not his mad strokes protected 
us. I missed him from my side and found him lying 
next to Green whom, it appears, he sought to 
shield.” 

Bob cast a short glance at the other body about 
which two persons were busily employed, then bent 
down over the freighter, clasping his hand that was 
already cold. 

“He has met a beautiful death, such as every true 


JOSE. 


265 


prairie man might envy. It comes too soon for 
none alone in the world,” he muttered, as to him- 
self. Slowly nodding his head, he then placed back 
the hand of the dead and turned his face toward the 
other body, whose face was concealed from view by 
those kneeling at its side. 

“’Tis Green, but I think his injuries are not 
fatal,” said Baumann. “He has a skillful physician 
attending him, one who may possibly restore you, 
too, old man.” Bob was about to put a question, 
when a pale, youthful face was turned upward from 
the ground, smiling radiantly at the hunter and 
again turning to the task before it. Baumann felt 
his arm encircled by the old man’s hand. 

“Why, it is she — Pepita!” he ejaculated, in a 
husky tone as if fearful of interrupting the work, 
“but — how comes she here? — so sudden and unex- 
pectedly.” 

“To tell the truth, I don’t quite understand it 
myself yet,” Baumann replied, taking his com- 
panion aside. “She arrived with reinforcements 
from the post, and judging from certain utterances 
which she made it is, thanks to her, that we are not 
all lying side by side with our poor friend, Dutch 
Bill. Well, I suppose this is the end of our jour- 
nies,” he continued, with a smile, looking into the 
hunter’s face, “that ought also to satisfy your 
boding superstition.” 

Bob made no reply; he could only gaze fixedly 
over to where Jose was rising from her kneeling 
posture, with a scrutinizing look still fastened 
at the apparently lifeless features of the wounded 
man, then suddenly turning her look full upon the 
old hunter. Two strides took the latter to her side. 


266 


JOSK 


‘‘Is it truly, then,” he cried, in a trembling tone of 
suppressed joy ; “our — our — ” 

“It’s Jose, Uncle Bob,” she interrupted him, taking 
his hand while her eyes grew misty, “and so must 
remain until she has found a new home somewhere. 
You shall know all, Uncle Bob : for the present con- 
tent yourself to believe that Pepita whom you mean 
has done nothing to merit reproach.” 

She turned to Baumann,* who was approaching. 

“He will soon recover,” she said, indicating the 
wounded; “when he opens his eyes let his first gaze 
be upon a friend’s face,” and with a wink to the 
man who had assisted her she made an attempt to 
leave. 

“One word yet, Jose,” the young German cried, 
confronting her, “you have no longer a secret to 
yourself,” he continued in an undertone; “neither 
in regard to yourself nor our friend Green. It is 
true, you do not yet know that we took the long 
wearisome march across the desert just to save you 
from the Apaches, nor that Green declares jt im- 
possible to live apart from you and has unbosomed 
himself to old Bob from the remotest depth of his 
heart, nor yet that you might be happy if you but 
wanted to. Stay, Jose, and if he can recognize you 
take his hand in yours.” 

A treacherous red had momentarily suffused her 
face, then she grew paler than ever before. 

“Speak not of happiness, sir, in the presence of 
the dead,” she murmured, in a deep tone, forcing 
back his hands. Bob shook his head, and was on 
the eve of putting in a word, when a cry close by 
suddenly interrupted the scene. Two men had ap- 
proached with rapid strides. 

“We are looking for you, young gentleman,” cried 


JOSE. 


267 


one, approaching Jose. ‘‘You led the last force 
from the fort and the men have confidence in you. 
Mr. McGregor is lying dead on the field and there is 
nobody to give orders. Arrangements must be 
made to remove him and our wounded. Moreover, 
the Apaches, when they recover from their surprise, 
may be back very soon to get the scalps.” 

Jose glanced over to where the dense crowd indi- 
cated the owner of the fort to be lying dead, shook 
his head as in sorrowful contemplation, then nodded 
a quiet: “I will be over.” Once again she bent 
down over the wounded, taking both hands in hers. 
Two wide open eyes met her own; she gazed down 
into them as if she could not relax her gaze, then 
she leaped to her feet suddenly. , 

“Come with me. Uncle Bob,” she cried, and 
hastened, followed by the men, away toward the 
waiting group. 

Baumann bent down over Green, who had mean- 
while recovered his consciousness and was making 
an effort to sit up. He fell back, however, with a 
cry of pain. 

“Softly, old friend; I will help you,” the German 
said, carefully thrusting his hand under the blankets 
that were serving the purpose of a couch ; “ gently 
now!” Green, his hunting shirt torn in twain and 
hanging loosely about his shoulders, sat upright, 
and sweeping his eyes round about, he asked in an 
uncertain tone-: 

“Was she really here?” 

“ She was here, my boy, and whaUs more, will be 
back, but until she does you must rest,” replied Bau- 
mann, while he spread one of the blankets over the 
body of the slain freighter. The American had de- 
tected the act and a full recollection of what had 


268 JOSE. 

recently taken place seemed to come back to his 
memory. 

“Has nothing been seen of Bob?” he asked, after 
a pause. 

“He is happy over the finding of his niece,” the 
other replied, lying down in the grass, “hence I 
think our wild journeys have come to a happy end. 
You, too, have found what you sought. I have 
indeed no cause to complain of a lack of adven- 
tures, though doubtless I shall return as I started, 
with a void in my heart. Bill has said farewell ; 
I wager he is better provided for than any of us.” 

“ He was a true-hearted fellow, and I wish I might 
have rewarded his fidelity,” replied Green, slowly 
raising his head. “I saw him fall beneath a toma- 
hawk as recklessly he forced his horse between me 
and a giant Indian, and but for his intervention I 
certainly should now be lying where he lies, instead 
of sitting here with a trifling flesh wound.” 

Baumann shrugged his shoulders. 

“His troubles are over, while we shall have to 
let the future bring forth what affliction it has 
for us,” he said; “life seems never to have been so 
worthless and hopeless as now, when thinking of 
my homeward journey and the future.” 

He looked up the trail where several riders were 
at that moment detaching themselves from the 
crowd and speeding at a brisk gallop in the direc- 
tion of the fort ; soon after Bob appeared, approach- 
ing the friends with long strides. 

“The oddest little creature,” he said, his counte- 
nance beaming with suppressed joy; “yonder she 
stands giving orders like a soldier ; I have been ap- 
pointed general by her in case there should be more 
trouble with the Indians, and despite this entire sad 


JOSE, 


269 


affair I couldn’t help laughing. It was the owner 
of the fort whom the redskins attacked just as he 
was returning from a marriage ceremony, that made 
him the husband of a very elegant young lady ; the 
lady we succeeded in fetching through all right, but 
the young man was slain, and the young worn a i 
has been made a widow even before she was . 
wife.” 

He shook his head and paused. 

“As for Pepita,” he continued, in a reviving tone, 
sitting down in the grass beside the friends ; “ she 
played the lamb until she got an opportunity to 
escape from the red coyotes and reached the fort. 
A few hours after the young owner rode away to 
solemnize his marriage she heard the Apache whoop 
and knew that unless she came to the rescue they 
^ would never get back home, so at her urgent re- 
quest the men finally consented to go, and arrived 
in the nick of time. They have sent to the fort for 
wagons to transfer the dead and wounded home, 
and for the present we shall go there, too. How 
matters will turn out, whether old Bob may take 
the wild bird home with him now or whether,” he 
continued, with a look at Green, “she will allow 
herself to be captured by a stranger’s hand, is 
something I do not like to think about. That young 
woman has something heavy on her heart, and it 
isn’t her husband altogether, else she would never 
have parted from him. Well, patience, it will all be 
clear enough by and by. Old Bob may now hope to 
be worthy to take charge of her.” 

He gave a quiet nod and appeared to abandon 
himself to his thoughts. 

For a while longer Green regarded the old man’s 
face ; he then supported his head in his hand, while 


270 


JOSE. 


Baumann arose and sauntered off among the scat- 
tered bodies of the slain. He had never, with any 
degree of assurance, nursed the hope that he should 
ever again encounter the features he called up in 
his mind whenever he went to sleep, and which con- 
stituted his heart’s sole happiness, and yet at the 
thought of returning to his old life it was as if he 
were compelled to bid a lasting adieu to hope and 
happiness. 


JOSE. 


271 


CHAPTER XX. 

A HOUSE 01 MOURNING. 

It was a melancholy procession that at noon of 
the same day filed toward the fort. At the head 
rode a small detachment of the troop led by Jose, 
followed by a wagon containing the body of the 
owner of the fort, at whose side, pale and with 
staring eyes, the old overseer, McAllister, rode. He 
had hastened with a wagon to the scene of the 
battle on the arrival of the fateful message. This 
was followed by another conveyance littered with 
wounded, stretched out on mattresses ; a third 
wagon followed with four slain, among them Hutch 
Bill. The remainder of the men, with whom Bob, 
Baumann, and Green, the latter on horseback, 
despite his shoulder wound, had associated them- 
selves, brought up the rear. Of the Indians thirty- 
four, independent of the chief, lay dead upon the 
ground, awaiting their friends to bury or take them 
away. 

With lagging gait and drooping heads, as if. they, 
too, conceived what had occurred, the horses plod- 
ded on ; not a sound was heard from the men, and 
an occasional groan from the wounded alone inter- 
rupted the monotonous noise of the wagons. When 
the fort was in sight Jose dispatched two horsemen 
to go ahead, but scarcely had the procession crossed 
the stream when an old woman, with disturbed 
looks, came hurrying toward him. 

“Is it true? Is it true?” she cried, rushing past 
the vanguard. “McAllister, is it true? Where is 
he?” again she cried, as she saw the overseer, the 


272 


JOSK 


bridle of whose horse she seized. The procession 
halted and the overseer carefully dismounted. 

“Silence, Hattie; collect yourself,” he said, taking 
hold of her arm while the muscles of his face 
twitched as if he were himself vainly trying to con- 
quer his grief. “ It is a hard blow to us two old 
people, but it must be suffered — ” 

“Loose me! loose me! You did not rock him in 
your lap nor rear him,” she interrupted, passion- 
ately. “Let me see him ! where is he?” 

“Do not detain the procession, Hattie,” he said, 
earnestly; “go look to your mistress whom you 
have forgotten ; it is her first province to mourn — ” 

“What would you, McAllister?” she cried, in wild 
agitation. “ The last of the McGregors lies crushed 
to the ground, never to flourish again. What cares 
she for the McGregors? Are not you and I all that is 
left of it?” 

The overseer looked up sorrowfully. He motioned 
to the horseman nearest to him, and the procession 
moved on. 

“ Bewail his death, Hattie, but I pray you, do not 
dishonor the dead,” he said, leading her slowly 
away; “the mistress was his choice, and was law- 
fully joined to him. Go, Hattie, in order that he 
who died like a true McGregor, with a weapon in 
his hand, may find a reception that is meet for a 
McGregor.” 

The housekeeper looked at him; large, heavy 
tear-drops escaped her wrinkled eyelids and the 
muscles around the old overseer^s mouth again 
twitched nervously. 

“Go, Hattie!” he said, averting his face. For a 
moment she clasped her face in her hands, then 
hastened away in advance of the procession. 


JOSE. 


273 


Slowly the large gate-wings swung open as the 
wagons approached. Through the vanguard the 
body of the young fort owner was first to pass into 
the echoing court, and stopping at the foot of the 
stair-way allowed the wagons following and the 
men to file into the yard beyond. With a hollow 
clang the gate closed again, the riders dismounted 
and while the overseer apportioned a number to 
care for the wounded, the larger part of them 
stepped back to the corpse that stood in waiting; 
twelve stout hands took hold of the mattress upon 
which the remains laid, and followed by the domes- 
tics in a line of two abreast, the procession slowly 
ascended to the upper story. 

Baumann and his wounded companion had fol- 
lowed the body. He was led to expect something so 
deeply affecting, yet withal poetical, in the sight of 
a maidenly widow wailing over the remains of the 
slain, that involuntarily he thought of the romance 
of a by-gone age. In a spacious room the body was 
deposited on a bed previously prepared ; the aged 
overseer approached it and covered the gaping 
neck-wound with a cloth, tenderly stroked the 
hair back from the cold rigid face, then turned 
toward the door with lowered head. The men had 
silently disposed themselves along the opposite wall 
and McAllister’s departure was followed by a calm 
so hushed that the falling of a grain of sand had 
been audible. 

After a short while the sound of steps and the 
rustle of women’s dresses were heard without ; the 
door opened and a slender figure in a black silk 
gown closed to the throat entered between the over- 
seer and the old housekeeper. 

At this juncture Baumann’s hand closed in a 


274 


JOSE. 


cramp-like grip around the arm of Green, who was 
standing at his side, and when the latter turned his 
face, he saw his friend rigidly staring, as in the 
presence of a spectral vision, at her who had just 
entered; however this was not the place to ask 
questions, and Green’s attention was soon occupied 
by the scene in course of development. 

The young lady slowly approached the corpse, 
but not a change in her features betrayed a single 
thought. On xhe contrary, her face indicated posi- 
tive mental relaxation, seemingly incapable of being 
impressed by extraneous influences. She bent down 
over the but slightly changed features of the dead, 
allowed her hand to rest upon his a moment while 
moving her lips as if softly conversing with him ; 
then a shudder seemed to convulse her ; she 
straightened up and turned to the overseer with a 
hardly audible, “Let us leave!” 

He led her back to the door, but scarcely had they 
left the room when Hattie fell upon her knees beside 
the couch of the dead. 

“ What does she know of the McGregors? What 
care for their last branch?” she cried, throwing her 
arms about the corpse. The other domestics also 
approached and successively began pressing the 
lifeless hand as for a last farewell. Baumann 
dragged his friend out of the room into a corner of 
the corridor, and here seized his uninjured hand 
with both his own. 

“Now what do you intend doing in the near 
future, Green?” he asked, looking him in the face 
with oddly sparkling eyes. 

The American shook his head with a smile in 
which humor and sadness were mingled together. 

“ Tell me, have we at any time since we lost the 


JOSK 


275 


caravan been masters of our inclinations?” he re- 
plied. “ Here I am struggling in the meshes of the 
mysterious being, destructible only at the forfeiture 
of love and happiness — at a loss for some way to 
arrive at a decision with her. Yet why do you 
ask?” he added, observing the singular expression 
on Baumann’s face. 

“Did you observe the lady who just left the 
death-chamber?” replied Baumann ; “did it not oc- 
cur to you as she stood cold and indifferent at the 
side of the young man who had scarcely become her 
husband, and turned wearily away, that surely love 
never, but some other influence had caused to be 
tied the knot that bound them together? Now, then, 
who do you imagine,” he continued, with a vigorous 
squeeze of his friend’s hand; “this young woman 
is? who, among all the rough-looking characters, 
and in this state of lonely seclusion, almost leads 
one to believe that she has been abducted, and 
forced to remain here — who, Green? But wait a 
moment!” he interrupted, visibly agitated, as Mc- 
Allister came toward them along the corridor. “I 
will first convince myself by another’s testimony 
that it is not hallucination.” He took a few steps to 
meet the overseer. “You will excuse a stranger 
who to-day fought side by side with your men 
against the Indians, for putting a question,” he said, 
as McAllister regarded him with a sorrowful look in 
his eyes. He nodded his head in silence. 

“ Has the lady of the house been longer than four 
or five weeks at this place?” 

“ It is close upon that time since she arrived at the 
fort,” was the scarcely audible reply. 

“And can you tell me her maiden name, sir?” 
asked Baumann, in a singular tone of voice. 


276 


JOSF, 

“Mary Brown, sir,” replied the overseer, while he 
scrutinized the face of his interrogator with in- 
creased interest. When the latter stepped back, 
however, he bowed with an acknowledging incline 
of the head, and silently proceeded to the death- 
chamber. Baumann, pale with suppressed emo- 
tions, had turned his face to his friend, who ex- 
tended his hand with a congratulatory smile. 

“It is she, indeed. Well, the aimless way in 
which we traveled about could scarcely have re- 
sulted otherwise — why, then, this look of agony?” 
he asked. “We are now thoroughly acquainted 
with our task for the days to come, and I am in 
favor of not stirring from the spot until we have 
gained our object — ” 

“For Heaven’s sake, you forget that this house 
contains the body of her dead husband, and that I 
am positively ignorant of how matters stand here,” 
cried Baumann, with difficulty restraining his voice. 

“ Come away, this is the least desirable place for 
us,” Green rejoined, thrusting his arm in that of his 
friend. “The difficulties I shall have to surmount 
are greatly less defined to me than those that con- 
front you. You have only to contend with a dead 
man — I, on the contrary, with a live one, and yet, 
since you have found your affinity, I feel greatly 
encouraged. Let us see what has become of Bob, 
who is the best person in the world to explain 
matters.” 

They descended the stairway and entered the yard 
where the domestics were gathered in scattered 
groups. The wagon in which the wounded had 
been transported was empty, and a white shroud 
had been spread over the dead. However, the 
friends had scarcely gone twenty paces when Bob 


JOSE. 


277 


suddenly hove in view among the various groups, 
and seemed delighted to see them. 

“The oddest little woman!” he began on reaching 
them. “ How I would like to know what’s got into 
her head now. Scarcely has she satisfied herself 
that the wounded are cared for when she disappears 
like a streak of lightning. Unless she’s taken refuge 
in some maid’s chamber, where I don’t care to in- 
trude, I confess I don’t know where to look for her.” 

“Never mind, Uncle Bob, she’ll turn up all right 
and doubtless she has excellent reasons for doing as 
she does,” replied Green; “I would recommend that 
we look for some secluded place where we can talk 
over matters of urgent importance.” 

The old man nodded. 

“ I have already examined this big box in all its 
bearings and c^^n point out a good camping-place,” 
he said, approaching the nearest door, which 
chanced to be that of a side wing. 

“ If the freighter were still with us he would be 
sure to cry for his coffee, of which I can’t catch a 
smell anywhere hereabout — happy mortal! he is 
over all these weaknesses, while we have still to 
foster care and sorrow.” 

Bob ascended the fiight before them and turned 
into a narrow corridor that terminated in a second, 
at the end of which they discovered a small stair- 
way. 

“Up yonder is the roof!” said the hunter, with a 
nod of the head, and turning back they entered a 
hall- way that extended in the direction they had 
originally pursued. Soon, however, they were again 
compelled to turn aside, and by ascending several 
steps, finally brought up in a wide corridor. 

“I’ve never been here before,” said Bob, coming 


278 


JOSA 


to a halt, “ it’s curious that a man can get lost in a 
house the breadth of a hand, and yet be able night 
or day to find his way on a wide-spreading prairie. 
Never mind, I guess we shall find some landmark to 
set us right.” 

A few more steps brought the trio to the open doo 
of a spacious room, in which two long boards were 
being set for dinner, at sight of which Bob’s face 
assumed a look of quiet satisfaction. 

“ I reckon we shall here find what we are most in 
want of ; I see I am once more in luck,” he said. “ I 
shouldn’t be able to find the way to this spot a 
second time ; so I think we had better camp right 
here.” 

The sharp clang of a bell was heard without, and 
soon the male domestics began to struggle in, 
grouping themselves about several large vessels 
that had been placed on the table at regular inter- 
vals. Now, too, the aroma of coffee from large, 
steaming tin cans began to fill the room, and soon 
the clatter of spoons and tin vessels, supplying the 
place of cups and plates, was in full sway. 

Bob had vainly looked about for Jose and finally 
beckoned his friends to sit down at a large dish near 
the end of one of the boards. 

“I am a little anxious about Pepita,” he said, in 
an undertone ; “ it is not probable that with breeches 
on she would be about any of the women ; then why 
isn’t she here?” 

Shaking his head he began to serve himself. 
Baumann and Green, it is true, followed his ex- 
ample, but despite the wholesome viands it was 
easily to be seen by the manner in which they ate 
that their thoughts had little to do with their present 
occupation. 


JOSE. 


279 


Scarcely was the meal over when the domestics 
began silently to leave their seats, and Bob was in 
the act of rising to address himself to a man who 
appeared to represent the head waiter, in regard to 
lodgings tor himself and companions, when Jose 
suddenly appeared in the open doorway, and after a 
quick glance around the room, walked straight 
toward the old hunter. 

“I must speak to you, Uncle Bob,” she said, 
taking hold of his hand; “next door is a place 
where we can talk without interruption. “Come 
with me.” 

The old man gazed inquiringly into her eyes^ and 
then slowly shook his head. 

“If the subject is not a profound secret we T1 not 
make it one, but discuss it right among us four. 
When a fellow has suffered hunger and thirst and 
risked his life for another it is right and proper for 
him to do away with odd notions and be open and 
above board toward his friends.” 

Jose for an instant changed color, and looked 
thoughtfully back at the two young men. 

“Perhaps you are right. Uncle Bob, and they may 
come, too,” she said, without looking up, starting 
for the door. 

Bob motioned to his companions. 

“ I expect we shall hear some news now to interest 
us,” he said, when both were at his side; “and I 
think the time has come to talk right out.” 

They followed Jose into an apartment, where the 
arrangement of the furniture had evidently been 
disturbed. Two mattrasses were lying on the floor, 
one across the other, while portions of a bedstead, a 
table and several chairs were scattered about in 


280 


JOSK 


confusion. The hunter cast a glance at the articles, 
and then pulled the upper mattress upon the floor. 

“ Here's a camping place as good as any on the 
plains. Let us forget that we're crowded in among 
four walls,” he said, lazily stretching himself on the 
straw pillow. “Now then to business. Let's unload 
our hearts.” 

“It is time. Uncle Bob,” began Jose, after comply- 
ing with his invitation, raising her large eyes to a 
level with his ; “ it is time that I should be looking 
for a proper kind of home, and I think I have found 
it. After making my escape from the Apaches and 
reaching the fort, and seeing the pale young lady 
with the kind, beautiful face, I resolved within my- 
self to tell her what I was and ask her to grant me 
a place of refuge, where I might live in retirement, 
without being criticised and reproached for the 
spirit that dwells within my heart, but it was not 
until to-day — when I suddenly discovered that the 
young mistress, though apparently rich and con- 
tent, is in reality deserted among her domestics, a 
stranger in her own house, and as unhappy as I my- 
self have been— I say not until to-day did I muster 
courage to speak to her. I followed her as she re- 
tired from the side of her young husband lying there 
dead — a husband for whom she had, alas, no love in 
her heart, for I could see it. I have forgotten all I 
said to her, but I still see her dear eyes resting^ upon 
my face as she held out her hand. 

“ There must be something in the souls of people 
that links them together when their hearts are 
alike fllled with sorrow. I shall remain here. Uncle 
Bob ; this shall be my home, and it was to tell you 
this that I asked you to follow me here. Eeturn to 
Apple Farm. They have been long looking and 


JOSK 


281 


waiting for you. Another will have taken my place 
by the time vou arrive, but if I should be mistaken, 
tell them not to 'vait for me, nor to mar their happi- 
ness, since Pepita, who was so sadly out of place 
there,^ will never more return, and believe all that 
they will tell you of the wild prairie bird, for it will 
all be true.” 

For a moment she seemed on the point of giving 
way to her emotions at the closing words, but her 
voiqe soon recovered its steadiness, and when she 
arose her eyes sparkled as over the result of a 
victoT’y. 

The hunter coughed, and waved his hand at 
Green, who made an attempt to gain his feet. 

“So this is bidding your uncle farewell? I am 
glad I have found out why I came all the way down 
here,” Bob said, nodding his head. “All you say is 
solemn gospel truth, and I know just how it is,” he 
added, as Jose opened her lips to speak. “To tell 
the truth, I’m not talking for myself. I am just a 
bit curious to learn if this decision is also meant to 
cover the case of a friend of mine who met an 
honest woman like an honest man, and began to 
have hopes of making her his wife. If it comes to 
a matter of separating let it be with candid hearts 
and let them that have no secrets to conceal come 
out openly and state their minds.” 

The blood retreated from Jose’s face, and for a 
second her lips trembled as from a forcibly sup- 
pressed emotion. 

“I have no secrets to conceal, and if I must I will 
speak out as candidly as I have to God in the silence 
of the night,” she said, in a voice that trembled 
despite her efforts to control it. “You speak of an- 
other, Uncle Bob, and he knows that my heart is 


282 


JOSK 


attached to him as firmly as the hopes of a devotee 
to Paradise, but though I would willingly forfeit my 
life for him I could never be his. Pepita is like the 
wild bird, and not adapted to the manners of well- 
bred people; all her love is powerless to balance her 
deficiencies. Not for the world would she exchange 
a short lived moment of bliss for the torturing neces- 
sity of again renouncing home and happiness, just 
because she is different from others and cannot 
change herself.” 

“Jose, but a word!” cried Green, leaping to his 
feet. 

“No! no!” she interrupted him, extending both 
hands to keep him back. “ Many a night have I 
wrestled with myself before arriving at a clear 
understanding; happiness to me is a forbidden 
Paradise from which the angel with the sword will 
drive me back into the desert.” 

Bob uttered a short growl, and gazed moodily at 
the floor. Green had succeeded in seizing one of 
her hands and firmly held it clasped in his. 

“Shall we have not one calm word, Pepita?” he 
demanded. “ I can so well understand your feeling 
and appreciate the motives that caused you to 
plunge into the wilderness as well, indeed, as if 
every point had been made clear to me, but do you 
on that score wish to blot out the happiness from 
both our lives. You are strong, Pepita; your mind 
is master of your will, and you have conquered 
more difficult obstacles than that which now so 
formidably looms up before your vision. I will not 
now urge you to anything from selfish motives ; but 
go back with us to civilization ; only let me care for 
you one year — one year in which you shall not once 
see me ; then I will ask you to decide. You are yet 


JOSE. 


283 


SO young, Pepita, and have the power to shape your 
destiny — will you calmly yield to the accident of 
birth and education?” 

“Oh, it is just what I said to myself when I went 
with him who snatched me from my wild California 
life and took me to his parents’ home ; withal I had 
to leave it again,” she said, endeavoring to dis- 
engage her hand; “let me enjoy my new home 
which at least does not promise more than it will 
realize.” 

When Jose began to describe the situation of the 
mistress of the house Baumann followed the scene 
with lively interest ; a determination seemed to be 
slowly shaping his mind. He pulled out his pocket- 
book, and from the various papers it contained 
selected one. Just as Jose was turning away from 
his friend he arose, placing his hand on the latter’s 
shoulder. 

“ Permit me to say a word and link our fates to- 
gether, since singularly enough they seem to run in 
the same groove,” he said. “Would you be kind 
enough,” he turned to the agitated young woman, 
“before you decide definitely, to make another visit 
to the mistress of the house?” 

She regarded him with a puzzled look. 

“You have only to give her this letter and ask if 
the gentleman who sent it may have the pleasure of 
an interview with her. If she refuses you may rely 
with some assurance upon this as your future home ; 
in another event let us pray God to render us both 
happy. Go, and imagine that it is a question put to 
Providence.” 

The deep tone and the expression of his eyes 
betrayed the feelings that swayed his breast. Jose 
regarded him searchingly and with surprise ; then, 


284 


JOSE. 


as if grasping the thought which he had uttered, 
she took the paper, bowed her head, and went. 


CHAPTER XXL 
love’s joys and sorkows. 

Bob seemed to be astonished at the sudden turn 
the conversation had taken, but simply shook his 
head and supported his chin in his hand after Jose 
had gone, while the two friends, one apparently as 
anxious as the other, resumed their former seats. 
The men had remained seated in silence three min- 
utes, when the door was hastily opened and the 
young mistress of the fort, tall and erect, stood in 
the opening. Her face was pale as before, but there 
was upon it a look of surprise ; it was a restless, fiery 
glance with which she swept the little group. At 
sight of her Baumann had sprung to his feet, while 
slowly the others followed ; he took two steps 
toward her — her eyes measured the figure in the 
wild prairie garb, plainly showing traces of the 
rough pilgrimage so recently brought to a close, 
until it remained suspended on his face — a moment, 
as in doubt, then brightening as in sudden recog- 
nition, while a faint red suffused her features. 

‘‘Mr. Baumann — is it indeed you?” she asked, while 
hesitatingly she raised her hand and advanced a 
step toward him; “how in the name of Providence 
did you come here?” 

He looked into her eyes and felt his heart flutter 
as it did when he opened her last letter ; he took her 
hand in his, and with the left quickly produced the 
bracelet which he had been holding in readiness 
and which had never once left his person. 


J08K 


285 


“I followed your trail, Miss— Mrs. McGregor.” 

“I implore you to spare me!” she cried, vehement- 
ly. “ Once before you acted as my guardian angel. 
Take me again under your protection, and lead me 
away from this place of horror, where the body of a 
man who has been a dark omen to me in life would 
hold me still in death. I knew that I was saved 
when I read your name — ” 

She tried to grasp his arm and staggered ; Bau- 
mann, however, quickly passing his arm around her 
waist, led her to a chair. 

“Mary,” he said, assisting her into the seat, “dis- 
pose of me — of my life; here are friends, too, who 
will aid us ; nothing will harm you nor will I leave 
you until you bid me go — ” 

She seemed to suppress her weakness by a mighty 
effort, and at last gazed up into his face with a 
smile of commingled pain and joy. 

“Let me have a short rest,” she whispered, 
arising; “I will see you in a quarter of an hour.” 

She looked in the direction of the door, where 
Jose-Pepita was standing, a silent witness to all 
that had taken place, beckoned to her, and in her 
company left the room. When she was gone Bau- 
mann extended his arms before him in overwhelm- 
ing happiness, and seized Green’s hand. 

“All will end well,” he said, with difficulty re- 
straining his voice; “but though the wild bird may 
not want to return to its nest. Uncle Bob shall have 
more than a home.” 

It was a long quarter of an hour which the friends 
were compelled to wait; neither one of the two 
chums apparently wished to anticipate by a single 
word the events in course of issue. Bob merely 
gave an occasional shake of the head, proving that 


286 


JOiSi. 


he was mentally cogitating on the strange events 
around him. At last after a long delay a strange 
girl thrust her face in at the aperture of the door. 

“ If you would please come to mistress, all of you, 
I will show you the way,” she said. 

“I’d like to know what she wants of this old hag,” 
growled Bob, though it cannot be denied he arose 
with as much celerity as his younger companions to 
comply with the invitation. 

It was the apartment hitherto reserved for Mary’s 
use, to which the men were conducted, but which 
Hattie, by the removal of the bed and several other 
changes undertaken on the morning after the de- 
parture of the bridal party, had converted into the 
semblance of a sitting room. 

The young lady met them with a friendly smile, 
which could not, however, quite efface the traces 
sorrow and pain had impressed upon her features, 
and turned to Baumann. 

“Pepita has briefly indicated to me how closely 
you three have been associated,” she said, a faint 
blush mantling her cheeks, as if her words were 
concealing the true object that had induced her to 
call them together; “in addition I am so powerfully 
urged by my present situation to decide upon a 
course for the immediate future, and, if nceessary, 
to place myself in the care of a friend, that I regard 
to-da3"’s unexpected meeting as a proof of the Lord’s 
mercy, and almost feel tempted to speak out with- 
out hesitancy, especially as there is no time for 
delay.” 

“Have no fear of saying what you wish. Miss 
Mary,” replied Baumann, conducting her to her 
arm-chair, “and believe me that my active interest 
is faithfully shared by my friends. This is Mr. 


J08K 


287 


Green, a St. Louis merchant,” he continued, intro- 
ducing the young man, “ of whom Pepita will doubt- 
less be able to relate more ; and this is our Uncle 
Bob, the best soul of all the hunters on the prairie.” 

“I will briefly explain how I am situated,” began 
Mary, drawing a deep breath, after the three men 
had disposed themselves upon as many chairs, and 
Green had vainly looked about for Jose; “I was 
brought by my father to this place, of whose nature I 
had not a thought. Through machinations and cir- 
cumstances which I had neither the power nor the 
courage to control, I was forced to wed a man 
against whom my soul rebelled, and was then aban- 
doned to my fate by father who, immediately after 
the ceremony, departed upon an extended business 
trip. McGregor was killed without again seeing the 
fort, and I am left heiress of a wilderness, divorcing 
me from the inhabited world more hopelessly than 
walls and locks — a wilderness serving my father 
as the object of some kind of speculation, to which 
he sacriflced me once before and may again if timely 
aid is not extended to me ; divided from a crowd of 
half civilized men by nothing but two old servants 
of McGregor, who have no grounds in the world to 
feel attached to me — deserted as effectually as if I 
were standing on a barren rock in the midst of the 
ocean. Now you probably understand why I ban- 
ished all hesitancy, when in an hour of despair, as 
dark as possibly can befall any creature, I read the 
name of a friend who can take me away before I 
fall into a trap ” 

“We’ll up and beat everv thing down that crosses 
our paths!” suddenly cried Bob, striking with his 
iron fist against the side of the chair until it groaned 
in every joint; “pack up, and if we don’t fetch you 


288 


JOSK 


to the States all right, they may call old Bob a liar 
for once and be forgiven.” • 

“Let us hear your wishes, Mary,” cried Baumann, 
leaping to his feet, excitedly ; “ say what you deem 
it your duty yet to transact here, then confide your- 
self to our keeping. I felt sure,” he continued, in a 
burst of emotion, “that the hope which led me 
hither was not vain.” 

He had seized her hand and felt it tremble in his; 
only a single, intense look she had directed into his 
eyes, then she lowered her head. 

“There is but little left to do,” she said, after a 
short pause, during which she appeared to have 
controlled her emotion. “ I will consign all that is 
here to the care of the old overseer who for years 
has alone managed the affairs of the fort, and leave 
father my address. I know that the value of the 
estate to all save those who live here is of no conse- 
quence whatever, and I have friends in the East 
through whose infiuence I shall readily obtain a 
suitable place.” 

Her gaze again encountered Baumann’s eyes, 
which had been fastened upon her at her closing 
words with an eager expression, and she stopped 
abruptly. 

“I propose that we divide the work,” Bob began, 
with a humorous look at the twain; “leave Mr. 
Baumann here to settle with the lady whatever 
remains to be done in that direction, and in the 
meantime look about for that humming bird to 
whom surely we yet have a serious word to say.” 

So saying he arose, thrust his arm into that of the 
young American, and with a droll shake of the 
head, led him out of the room. 

Baumann comprehended his old companion’s 


JOSE, 


289 


motive at a glance, and hardly had the door closed 
when he took both the young girPs hands in his. 

“Mary,” he said, tenderly, “a person does not 
usually beat his way Jor a thousand miles through 
dangers and privations, on at last finding what he 
has yearningly sought for, to stop at half-uttered 
words. I have enjoyed no rest since the day you 
disappeared in Vicksburg; but your two letters be- 
came my prayer-book, and followed me through 
every danger ; I have regarded the chance which 
led me to find your bracelet on the prairie a hint 
from Heaven. Now, then, answer me frankly, 
Mary, have I been a fool for reading between the 
lines of your last letter and nursed a hope which 
caused me to follow you without a thought of rest? 
Can it be true that you have no intention other than 
to seek an engagement in the East?” 

She cast up her eyes with a look in which were 
apparently refiected a multitude of conflicting emo- 
tions. 

“Why, Henry, we have barely become ac- 
quainted,” she said, in a tremulous, almost prayerful 
tone of voice. 

“Barely acquainted, Mary?” he cried, with a sud- 
den, happy peal of laughter, pressing her hands 
tighter; “have I not held communion with the 
only picture that lived in my soul ; have I not made 
it familiar with everything I am, until there is not 
a corner in my heart that I have not revealed to it? 
Mary, have you never thought of me? Only tell me 
that!” 

He kneeled down at the side of her chair, and in 
this position gazed up into her lowered face, at 
those eyes that suddenly filled with tears. 

“Mary,” he cried, half frightened. 


290 


JOSK 


She raised her head and attempted to smile, but 
as if overpowered by the force of her emotions, 
she dropped her face upon his shoulder. 

‘‘Let me weep, Henry,” she said, “this happiness 
is too much for one day.” 

And as he held her in his arms Heaven in his 
heart, some one else was heard sobbing in the next 
room, plainly audible through the crack of the door. 
He did not hear it, but it must have reached her 
ears, for abruptly she raised her head, pressed a 
handkerchief against her eyes, and arose from her 
seat, motioning the surprised young man, who en- 
deavored to follow her, to remain behind. She 
quickly disappeared in the adjoining room, and now 
Baumann, too, heard the sound of suppressed weep- 
ing. However, he did not then stop to seek an 
explanation of the cause ; he stepped back to the 
remotest window and gazed out upon the broad ex- 
panse of the heavens, his heart filled with sunshine 
and happiness. A short time passed away, almost 
unconsciously to him, when he was disturbed from 
his reverie by the re-entrance of his two com- 
panions. 

“She is either up and gone again,” said Bob, with 
a look about the room, “and I am ready to credit 
her with almsot everything, or she is hiding some- 
where near here. There’s no use looking for her 
any more.” 

Green looked at his friend, who approached him, 
but his thoughts appeared to have taken a wholly 
different direction, and even when Baumann took 
his hand he seemed hardly aware of his presence. 

“ The mistress may be able to tell us something 
about her,” continued the hunter, with ruffled 
brows. 


J08K 


291 


His words were here interrupted by the sud- 
den opening of the side door, and there, on the 
casement, encircled by Mary’s arm, stood a grace- 
ful, pretty woman, shrinking from their sight, her 
tear-bathed face wreathed in a bashful smile. 

“Why, there she is! On my soul!” cried the 
hunter, “and Heaven be thanked, back in skirts!” 

He took a step forward, then seized hold of Green, 
who with a look of transport not without a mingling 
of pain, stood speechless, gazing at the sudden ap- 
parition. 

“Now then, put on a bold front,” continued the 
hunter. “ She has completely changed. She is tired 
of masquerading in boy’s clothes — eh, Pepita?” 

Pepita, however, appeared not to have heard him. 
Her gaze was riveted upon the eloquent features of 
Green’s face, and when the latter took a step as to 
approach her, she erected herself boldly in Mary’s 
arm, met him, and with both hands took hold of his 
uninjured right. 

“ I know that I am precipitating myself into fresh 
misfortunes,” she said, with a passionate trembling 
of the voice, “ by not fleeing and seeking another 
home, since I cannot remain here, but I lack the 
strength to do it ; I shudder at the thought of again 
being left homeless, not daring to be what I am; I 
long for happiness, and yet I am sure that the short 
bliss I shall enjoy will again turn to despair. But I 
will taste it once more,” she continued, passionately; 
“once again I will blindly conflde as if I were igno- 
rant of what is to follow. Take me ; do with me as 
you will without a question — but if Pepita must 
again into the desert, look for her dead body if you 
would behold her again.” 

She had uttered the last words in a lowered voice, 


292 


JOSA 


and as if suddenly overwhelmed by her emotions, 
she sank upon her knees. 

“Jose — Pepita!” Green cried, encircling her waist, 
while Mary and Baumann hastily approached. 

“ It’s all nonsense. The whole thing might have 
been settled in a few words,” growled the hunter, 
turning away, “ and then again it might have been 
worse. Oh, if that girl had only been born a boy. 
It’s a real pity, and the freighter said so.” 

That same evening, long after darkness had set 
in, McAllister and Hattie, the aged housekeeper, 
were sitting together in a small room adjoining the 
death chamber. They were divided by a table, upon 
which a tallow candle was dimly burning, and were 
both thoughtfully staring at a common point. 

“ I think she is only doing what’s best for her, and 
for us, too,” the overseer finally began, “and we 
ought to thank her, Hattie. When I think of her 
flight, for that’s what it was, and no use saying it 
was a wild, girlish freak — when I think of her looks, 
as we were starting for the magistrate’s place, I 
can’t blame her for not being more demonstrative 
in her grief over the dead man. She respected the 
memory of the last of the McGregors by confirming 
our positions for life, leaving everything in our 
hands, the same as before, and only taking what 
she needs for her immediate necessities. 

The housekeeper raised her eyes, red from weep- 
ing. 

“That is all very well, McAllister,” said she; “1 
am well aware that she could not have acted other- 
wise, but it is after all only compassion, and she has 
done nothing for the sake of the McGregors. It is 
very hard in our old days.” 


JOSE, 


293 


CHAPTER XXII. 

CONCLUSION. 


Five weeks later. 

In an apartment of the Planters House, in St. 
Louis, Baumann, now and then placing a cigar be- 
tween his lips and blowing light clouds of smoke 
into the air, was walking up and down. 

At the window Green was lazily reclining in a 
chair, looking out upon the street with a thoughtful 
expression. * 

After a while the former halted before his friend. 

“We must come to some conclusion,” he began, 
“ and though I am comparatively a novice in Ameri- 
can affairs of business, I am inclined to believe that 
your view of the case is entirely too dismal. For 
myself I would not hesitate an instant accepting a 
position as book-keeper or correspondent in some 
respectable business house, and Mary would also be 
content with some modest place, but in this case it 
is a question of resigning opportunities for the 
establishment of a business of our own, such as will 
not be offered us again very soon. You know your- 
self what a courteous letter my old principal wrote 
me in the name of the entire firm of Flister & Co., 
proposing, in case I desired to go into business for 
myself, to give me the agency of the house and 
place at my disposal the credit of the firm. You are 
aware that the engagements I formed for my former 
employers are still open to me, besides being highly 
promising, and if you will but contribute your busi- 
ness experience, failure is next to impossible ” 

“This to the contrary notwithstanding I know 
that no matter how careful we may be it will re- 
quire a larger capital than we can together com- 
mand.” Green interrupted him, contracting his eyes 
as under the influence of a troublesome thought. “ I 
do not take a dismal view of the case, but regard it 


294 


JOiiE. 


just as it is; I realize our immediate advantages 
and would gladly agree if I were still situated as 
formerly. Before you conclude to take a definite 
course let the matter rest a day or two. Possibly I 
shall find a way, regardless of the fact that many a 
hope upon which I implicitly relied has been rudely 
shattered.” 

He looked out upon the street again, while Bau- 
mann, with a thoughtful shake of the head, resumed 
his walk. 

The expedition had wrought many a sudden 
change in Green’s affairs. 

The news of the total annihilation of the train 
had reached St. Louis, even before our friends had 
reached the border, and Green, on crossing the 
threshold of the house, whence he had taken his 
departure full of buoyant hopes — a messenger of 
evil — found his partners awaiting him with looks of 
anxious suspense and the declaration that they were 
totally ruined. 

The loss was too damaging than that the resources 
of the house could recover it, and Green barely suc- 
ceeded in obtaining the consent of his despondent 
partners to postpone the announcement of their in- 
solvency until an attempt was made to induce their 
creditors in the East to share part of the loss. 

While Bob, half way civilized in appearance, was 
treading the familiar path which led to the farm on 
the Meramec, agreeable to a promise that he would 
meet his friends at the Planters House on a certain 
day, the two young couples were on their return 
East. 

It was agreed that Mary should pass her mourning 
period with relatives in Cambridge, where Pepita, 
in order to be near Mary, was to enter a boarding 
school. 

Such preparations as were deemed imperative, 
therefore, were quickly made, and while Baumann, 
whose^ only ambition it was to obtain a suitable 
berth in the United States, was reviving his friendly 
relations with his former acquaintances, having 
called on the agents of his late firm for a reply to 
his letter announcing his trip across the plains, 


JOSE. 296 

Green was making the rounds of the friends of his 
firm. 

He was met with apparent sympathy; he and 
Baumann constituted the heroes of many a social 
gathering, but the universal advise given the former 
was not to cling to a leaking craft, but to begin 
afresh undismayed. 

His spirit of honesty was recognized everywhere, 
fresh credit placed at his disposal on all sides, but 
even his best friends would hear nothing of volun- 
tary sacrifices. 

Depressed in spirits, if not discouraged. Green 
finally returned to St. Louis in company with his 
friends, and very shortly after his arrival the late 
prosperous business was transferred to the charge 
of its creditors. 

Green had wished to pay his partners the rest of 
the amount realized from the sale of the mules, but 
it had been rejected as barely nominal in the great 
general loss, with the injunction not to make a fool 
of himself, and thus he and Baumann, kept from 
immediate want by means remaining from former 
times, had temporarily taken up quarters in the 
Planters House. 

Baumann’s critical situation was not a secret to 
Mary. Previous to their departure from the fort, 
the overseer had paid the maiden five hundred dol- 
lars in gold, surplus funds in his possession, and she 
had insisted upon transferring the money to her 
affianced, but had only gained her object to the ex- 
tent that he had consented to appropriate the 
amount necessary to defray their traveling ex- 
penses. Baumann, on the other hand, knew that 
there was still a small capital, an inheritance from 
her mother, in the hands of Mary’s father. But this 
was set apart as a special fund for the establishment 
of a business of some kind for Baumann when a 
favorable opportunity should offer, and the latter 
had solemnly vowed to drudge for years in the 
employ of others rather than trifle with it by risking 
a probable loss. On receipt of the letters from his 
employers he imagined to have found a rare oppor- 
tunity by associating himself with Green, who 


296 


JOSK 


everywhere enjoyed the reputation of being a valu- 
able businessman; Green’s views and experiences, 
however, formed such a glaring contrast to his own 
hopes that it almost seemed folly to think of taking 
advantage of the circumstances appearing aus- 
picious at that moment only. 

“ I believe this is the day on which we were to 
look for the return of Old Bob,” began Baumann, 
after a walk across the room, as if he were bent on 
changing the course of the conversation, “and I 
am really curious to know not only hoAv well he has 
succeeded in adjusting your affair, but also how 
farm life agreed with the old boy.” 

Green looked up, drawing a deep breath. His 
answer, however, was cut short by the sudden open- 
ing of the door. 

“ Here is a gentleman who would like to speak 
with Mr. Baumann,” said the waiter, entering, 
while close behind him could be seen the figure of 
an elderly man, cleanly and fashionably dressed. 
On crossing the threshold his keen eyes changed 
from one to the- other of the two young men, and at 
last remained fastened on the German’s face. 

“I would like to speak to Mr. Baumann,” he said, 
with an accent betraying the Yankee. 

“I am here, sir,” the young man answered, ap- 
proaching. 

For the space of a second the visitor seemed de- 
termined to penetrate him with his looks, then with 
a slight nod of the head, he said : 

“ My name is Brown, sir, the father of Mrs. Mc- 
Gregor.” 

Baumann’s face colored a shade higher, but just 
as quickly the trace of his sudden agitation dis- 
appeared. 

“Very glad, indeed, to know you, Mr. Brown,” he 
replied, extending his hand. “ To confess, I thought 
you far away upon the prairies. Have a seat, sir.” 

Brown had placed the tips of his fingers in the. 
proffered right hand an instant, and then cast a side 
glance at Green. 

“I should like to speak to you about certain 
affairs,” he began, hesitatingly. 


J08E. 


297 


If they concern no one but me, interrupted Bau- 
mann, as the young American made a motion to 
leave ; “ I beg you will speak without fear. This is 
Mr. Green, whose companion I was in the ill-fated 
expedition across the plains.” 

Brown slightly bowed to the young man, and 
slowly sat down, with a look of uneasiness. 

“I come directly from my daughter, sir, whose 
departure for the east,” he began, “I learned at Fort 
McGregor, whither I returned sooner that I ex- 
pected. I presume you have been informed how I 
was formerly situated there?” 

Baumann mutely inclined his head. 

“ My daughter, after her bereavement, disposed of 
her inheritance and her hand without having first 
consulted her father,” he continued, lightly con- 
tracting his brows ; “ however, in our country this 
is not so uncommon that I should wish to complain 
about it. Nevertheless, my interests are so closely 
involved with the bequest, that I cannot resign the 
contract into which the deceased entered with me, 
without proper compensation. Possibly you do not 
know that I am a shareholder in the land attached 
to the fort?” 

He regarded the young man as if he hoped to 
read the impression of this announcement in his 
face. 

“I am aware of that fact,” replied Baumann, with 
a look of scorn. “ I also know that you gave your 
daughter in payment for this land.” 

Brown turned pale ; he looked at Green, who was 
gazing out upon the street with a totally uncon- 
cerned air apparently, then with an obdurate ex- 
pression again regarded his vis-a-vis. 

~ “ I believe, sir, I am responsible to myself alone 
for my actions,” he said. “A moment’s conversa- 
tion with my daughter has made it all clear to me, 
and I shall therefore confine myself to business. 
Mary has referred me to you as her— attorney or 
something of the kind,” he continued, in an icy tone, 
producing a wallet from an inner coat pocket. 
“These lines, I think, will explain everything, and 
I pray you, after you have received your informa- 


298 


JOSE, 


tion, to name your conditions, since you will evi- 
dently not wish personally to interfere with the re- 
quirements of the contract of the late Mr. Mc- 
Gregor.” 

Baumann opened the envelope that was handed to 
him, with a feeling of suspense. It contained a 
legally-formed document, authorizing him to act as 
attorney for Mary, and accompanied by a few lines 
in her own handwriting, wherein she begged him 
to use his own discretion in deciding upon a price in 
consideration of which to resign the lands of her 
deceased husband to her father. As near as she 
could learn, she wrote, the undertaking of settling 
the Moro Valley was prospering, so much so that, 
without any material sacrinces on her father’s part, 
no mean sum could consistently be demanded. 
The only condition which she wished to impose was 
that McAllister and Hattie should remain in their 
places or be properly indemnified. 

Baumann had long finished reading, but the 
thought of a responsibility to him so heavy still 
caused him to keep his eyes on the paper. Just as 
he slowly raised his head the door was opened, and 
in stepped Bob, greeting his two fellow plainsmen 
with evident delight. 

“Go on with your business; I have lots of time,” 
he cried, with a wave of the hand, as Baumann 
started to imitate Green, who abruptly arose to his 
feet and hastened toward him. “ I’ve come to stay 
all day, and it is early yet,” he continued, taking a 
seat. 

Green had drawn his chair from the window up 
to the old hunter’s side, while Baumann, making an 
effort to collect himself, again regarded Mary’s 
letter. 

“You will see,” he then said, with a look up- 
ward; “that I cannot afford to be precipitous in this 
matter. If you will excuse me until to-morrow I 
can promise you that we shall have no difficulty in 
arriving at an understanding.” 

Brown stiffly nodded and arose. 

“I shall be back to-morrow at this time,” he 


JOSE. 


299 


answered, ‘‘and be delighted to know that the affair 
can be adjusted without any further delay.” 

He left the room with a slight nod of the head, 
and Baumann turned to his companions. 

“ Uncle, how are you, and how did your business 
terminate?” he cried, extending his hand. 

“How am I?” replied Bob, with a chuckle; “I 
am determined to go back to the Kickapoos at the 
earliest opportunity. I believe I have got out of 
the practice of being propped up in a chair or to 
entertain people with a discussion of the weather. 
I felt very ^ueer when I passed over the old, familiar 
paths again, and when I was back on the farm a 
couple of days, everybody trying to tell by my looks 
what I wanted, I thought a kitten was everywhere 
rubbing her coat against me. But it wouldn’t last 
long, and when finally I began to look at my rifle 
every once in a while and to think of the plains, I 
began to feel very oddly. I would gladly have 
given anything just to have been able to clap my 
eyes on a redskin again. I reckon they guessed 
what was the matter with me, for Joseph every day 
offered to go out gunning with me. The idea of 
going gunning where you can’t take a step without 
running your nose squarely against a fence ! When 
at last I began to find that it wouldn’t do any longer, 
I told the old folks that I had some business to tran- 
act among the Kickapoos, but that I would soon be 
back. Well, of course. I’ll be back. It is exceed- 
ingly pleasant to know that you have a home and 
can go back to it whenever you please. I’ll drop 
down this way occasionally — but when some day 
they got to bury me, I want it to be on the prairie 
witli its millions of stars!” 

He passed his hand across his furrowed face. 

“Oh, yes, but my mission!” he then resumed, 
briskly, as if intent on changing his train of thought. 
“Joseph was married again day before yesterday, 
and it only formed the turning point of an affair 
long ago settled ! Does that satisfy you?” he con- 
tinued, laughingly gazing into Green’s surprised 
face, “The folks knew very well where there was 
a hole for escape ! They waited a couple of weeks 


300 


JOsA 


after Pepita left them — God bless the young woman, 
she did it to make peace in the family — then in- 
serted an advertisement three weeks in the news- 
papers, asking the young woman to come back lest 
Jose should consider himself divorced. It wasn’t 
altogether a matter of indifference to J oseph ; but 
the old folks had designs upon a neighbor’s girl for 
a daughter-in-law, and the boy naturally was struck 
with her red cheeks. Still, nobody knew but Pepita 
would some day come back and insist upon her 
rights. Just about that time Uncle Bob arrived 
with a written explanation from the wild humming- 
bird, that came right in the nick of time — Marry, 
sir, as soon as you like ; it’s all right!” 

Green offered his hand to his old companion. 

“My affairs have changed since we parted,” he 
said, but Pepita will not miss the tinsel and the 
dress ” 

“Hold!” interrupted Baumann; “I shall take 
the liberty to say a word first. The honorable Mr. 
Brown desires to buy Fort McGregor and all its land 
from his daughter — or rather from me, her attorney. 
He wants it to further his speculation.” 

“I have arranged a satisfactory sale.” 

Green and old “ Bob” sprang up and shook the 
young German’s hand heartily. 

9i< 4: ♦ 4c 

A year after, the firm of Baumann & Green were 
among the important fur houses in the East. For 
a large portion of their good fortune they were in- 
debted to old “Bob,” who acted as mediator and 
agent for them among hunters, trappers, and fur 
stations, opening- up for them new and direct re- 
sources, and actually appearing to rejuvenate in this 
sphere of activity. 

Green was the traveling member of the firm, and 
upon his frequent visits to the Far West his youth- 
ful and happy wife was his inseparable companion, 
Old pob, on his occasional visits to his “new homes,” 
as he is wont to call Baumann’s and Green’s resi- 


JOSK 


301 


dences, is called “Uncle Bob” by the rising genera- 
tion, who practice their pranks upon him with 
impunity. 

[the end.] 


^"HIS WOED OF HONOR," by E. Werner, a transla- 
tion from the German, will be published in the next num- 
ber (7) of the Primrose Edition. 



ITo. 5. 


Her Royal Lover, 

By ARY ECILAW, 

is a story of thrilling interest. The scenes are 
very dramatically drawn and the characters 
graphically portrayed. 


Her KoTAii Lover. — This is an admirable translation of a fascinating 
romance from the French, by Ary Ecilaw. It appeals especially to 
wives who aim to attract admiration, and to husbands who are so 
jealous that “trifles light as air” often disturb the serenity of the 
household. It brings the heroine close to the vrerge of disaster ; it is 
so artfully woven that the persistent secret wooer is on the eve of being 
rewarded for his duplicity ; and the maddened husband is about to be 
humiliated, when, lo ! utterly unexpected events expose rascality and 
vindicate the imprudent but faithful wife. The story is vigorously and 
dramatically narrated, with many strong situations, and never lags in 
action. — Chronicle. 


For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postage 
FREE, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of 
price, 50 cents, by the publishers, 

STREET c5; SMITH, 

P. 0. Box 2734. - 25 to 31 Kose Street, New York. 


PEIMKOSE EDITION 

IsTo. 4. 


Kathleen Don 

By JULIA TRUITT BISHOP, 

zs a pure and beautifully written love story. It is 
talked of by press and public alike and 
is the sensation of the day. 



Kathleen Douglas. — Like the plot of an artfully constructed play 
is this cleverly told romance, by Julia Truitt Bishop, of love and mys- 
tery. It is the story of a cruelly suspected yet innocent wife, against 
whom suspicions are aroused and disseminated by a rejected wooer — a 
man with the outward semblance of a saint, yet who conceals the 
heart of an insatiate wretch. The interest is heightened and artisti- 
cally sustained by making the daughter an inheritor of her mother’s 
supposed disgrace. The golden thread of a pleasing love episode is 
intertwined with the tragic element of the romance, and from the 
opening to the close the reader never loses sight of the heroine, the long- 
suffering but eventually rewarded Kathleen Douglas . — Baltimore News. 


For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postage 
EREE, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of 
price, 50 cents, by the publishers, 

STREET & SMITH, 

P, 0. Box 2734, 25 to 31 Rose Street, New York. 


PKIMKOSE EDITION 

ISTo. 8. 


DOCTOR JACK, 

By ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE, 

is now being much talked about. The critics say 
it is the most exciting and sensatioyial story 
of the season^ and ^opoo copies have 
already been sold. 


Doctob Jack. — A novel, by St. George Katbborne, is an intensely 
interesting and highly dramatic modern story of an American’s adven- 
tures in sunny Spain and Oriental Turkey. The scenes are rapid in 
their action, and yet the reader is given entrancing glimpses of pen 
painted scenery along the way that charm the senses. It will be con- 
ceded on all sides that the author’s graphic description of the bull fight 
at Madrid is the most powerful ever printed ; while the events con- 
nected with the great Spanish carnival must ever remain a pleasant 
recollection to the reader. We predict for Doctor Jack a sale un- 
equaled since the publication of “ Mr. Barnes of New York.” The 
volume is handsomely gotten up, in attractive cover. — N, Y. Herald. 


For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postage 
TREE, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of 
price, 50 cents, by the publishers, 

STREET & SMITH, 

, P. 0. Box 2734. 25 to 31 Bose Street, New Tork. 


PRIMKOSE EDITION 

TSTo. 3. 


THE 

Belle of the Season, 

By Mrs. HARRIET LEWIS, 

is an intensely interesting story ^ and written in the 
best style of the gifted author. The large sales 
of this book are sufficient proof of its merit 
and it is recommended to all lovers of 
first-class literature. 


The Belle of the Season. — This is a gracefully told love story, by 
Mrs. Harriet Lewis, abounding in dramatic action and extremely capti- 
vating incidents, The plot is a marvel of ingenuity, not at all extra- 
vagant, and the love scenes are very spiritedly depicted. The reader 
must admire the adroit manner in which the hero and heroine, after 
innumerable trials, temptations, and misunderstandings, overcome all 
obstacles to their union, and recognize each other’s worth. There is 
an underplot of deep interest which entrances the charm of romance, 
and every chapter developes novel and unexpected features. The 
Belle of the Season is one of Mrs. Lewis’ most entrancing works, 
and is likely to have a large sale . — Pittsburg Leader. 


For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postage 
FEEE, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of 
price, 50 cents, by the publishers, 

STREET & SMITH, 

25 to 31 Rose Street, New York. 


P. 0. Box 2734 



An Entrancing Emotional Story, 


By BERTHA M. OLAY. 


No. I Of the Primrose Edition of Copyright Noveis. 


Price, Cloth, $1; Paper, 50 Cents. 


SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

Messrs. Street & Smith, New York, begin a new series of novels— “The 
Primrose Library”— with “Another Man’s Wife,” by Bertha M. Clay. The 
story has enough plot to keep one from falling asleep over it, and it also in- 
dicates the stumbling-blocks and pitfalls which abound everywhere for 
young husbands and wives who think so much about having “a good time” 
that they have no time left in which to think about reputation and 
character. — N. Y. Herald, Sept. 10. 

Street & Smith publish the American copyright novel, “Another Man’s 
Wife,” by Bertha M. Clay. It deals with certain corrupting influences of 
fashionable society, and impressively warns of the dangers that spring 
from them. Its plot is strong and dramatic, and is elaborated with all of 
the qualities of style that have made the author so popular. It is the first 
issue of the new Primrose Series . — Boston Globe, Sept. 16. 

“Another Man’s Wife,” by Bertha M. Clay, Street & Smith’s Primrose 
Series, is a laudable effort toward the repression of the growing evil ol 
matrimonial disloyalty. The book is handsomely bound, with a" holiday 
look about \t.— Brooklyn Eagle, Sept. 15. 

Street & Smith of New York publish in cloth cover “Another Man’s 
Wife,” by Bertha M. Clav. The story is effective. It impressively depicts 
the results certain to attend the sins of deception. It teaches a lesson that 
will not be lost upon those thoughtless men and women who, only intent 
upon pleasure, little dream of the pitfall before them, and to which they are 
blind until exposure wrecks happiness . — Troy (N. Y.) Press. 

Street & Smith, New York, have brought out in book-form “Another 
Man’s Wife.” This is one of Bertha M. Clay’s most eftective stories.— 
Cincinnati Enquirer. 

“Another Man’s Wife.” This is one of Bertha M. Clay’s most effective 
stories. It forcibly and impressibly portrays the evils certain to attend 
matrimonial deceit, clandestine interviews, and all the tricks and devices 
which imperil a wife’s honor. It has a novel and entrancingly interesting 

S lot, and abounds in vivid and dramatic incidents. It is the first issue of 
treet & Smith’s Primrose Edition of Copyright Novels, and will not appear 
elsewhere .— Freemaiu 


The Primrose Edition 

OF 

COPYRIGHT NOVELS. 


Issued Montlily. 50 Cents. 


No. I-INOTHER MAN'S WIFE, by Boflba M. Clay. 

Another Man’s Wife.— This is one of Bertha M. Clay’s most eifective stories. It 
forcibly and impressibly portrays the evils certain to attend matrimonial deceit, clan- 
destine interviews, and all the tricks and devices which imperil g, wife’s honor. It has a 
novel and entrancinKly interestinA? plot, and abounds in vivid and dramatic incidents. 
It is the first issue of Street & Smith’s Primrose Edition of Copyright Novels, and it 
will not appear elsewhere.— FranAKn Freeman. 

No. 2-THE BELLE OF THE SEASON, by Mis. 
Harriot Lewis. 

The Belle of the Season.— This is a gracefully told love story, by Mrs. Harriet 
Lewis, abounding in dramatic action and extremely captivating incidents. The plot is 
a marvel of ingenuity, not at all extravagant, and the love scenes are very spiritedly de- 
picted. The reader must admire the adroit manner in which the hero and heroine, after 
innumerable trials, temptations, and misunderstandings, overcome all obstacles to their 
union, and reco^ize each other’s worth. There is an underplot of deep interest which 
entrances the charm of romance, and every chapter develops novel and unexpected 
features. “The Belle of the Season” is one of Mrs. Lewis’ most entrancing works, and 
is likely to have a large ssle.— Pittsburg Leader. 

No. 3-DOGTOR JACK, by St. George Rathborne. 

Doctor Jack.— A novel, by St. George Rathborne, is an intensely interesting and 
highly dramatic modem story of an American’s adventures in sunny Spain and Oriental 
Turkey. The scenes are rapid in their action, and yet the reader is given entrancing 
glimpses of pen painted scenery along the way that charm the senses. It will be con- 
ceded on all sides that the author’s graphic description of the bull fight at Madrid is the 
most powerful ever printed ; while the events connected with the great Spanish carnival 
must ever remain a pleasant recollection to the reader. We predict for ‘^Doctor Jack” a 
sale unequaled sin< e the publication of “ Mr. Barnes of New York.” The volume is 
handsomely gotten up, in attractive cower.— Herald. 

No. 4-KATHLEEN DOUGLAS, by Julia Truitt Bishop. 

Kathleen Douglas.— Like the plot of an artfully constructed play is this cleverly 
told romance, by Julia Truitt Bishop, of love and mystery. It is the story of a cmelly 
suspected yet innocent wife, against whom suspicions are aroused and disseminated by 
a rejected wooer— a man with the outward semblance of a saint, yet who conceals the 
heart of an insatiate wretch. The interest is heightened and artistically sustained by 
making the daughter an inheritor of her mother’s supposed disgrace. The golden thread 
of a pleasing love episode is intertwined with the tragic element of the romance, and 
from the opening to the close the reader never loses sight of the heroine, the long-suffer- 
ing but eventually rewarded Kathleen Douglas. 

No. 5-HER ROYAL LOVER, by Ary Ecliaw. 


These popular hooks are large type editions, well printed, well hound, and lii 
handsome covers. For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers ; or sent, postage 
free, on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

JSTH.EET dfc isivcxrrzz, 

25 to 31 Rose Street', New York. 


P. O. Box 2734, 


WOMEN’S SECRETS 


The public are at last permitted to take a peep into the 
wonderful and mysterious art of 

“HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL.” 

We will soon become a nation of Beauty. Read how, in the table of 

CO TEnS’TS : 

THE VALUE OP PERSONAL BEAUTY.— This chapter relates to the beauty- 
in “Genius,” “Strengtli,” “Religion,” “Poetry,” and “Chivalry.” 

THE HISTORY OP BEAUTY.— Mode of acquiring it by the people of different 
nations. What people are the most beautiful? 

VARIOUS STANDARDS OF BEAUTY.— Tastes of civilized and uncivilized 
people. The French definition of beauty. 

THE BEST STANDARD OF BEAUTY.— Defines the Head, Hair, Eyes, Cheeks, 
Ears, Nose, Mouth, Bosom, Limbs, and in fact every part of the human form. 

HOW TO RAISE BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN.— To newly married people, and 
those who contemplate entering the conjugal state, this chapter alone is 
well worth the price of the book. 

HOW TO BE BEAUTIFUL.— This chapter is full of information, as it not only 
tells how to beautify every part of the form and features, but gives recipes 
and cures lor all the ailments which tend to mar or blemish. 

BEAUTY SLEEP.— To be beautiful it is not necessary to be like the bird that 
seeks its nest at sunset and goes forth again at sunrise. You will here find 
the required time to be spent in bed, the positions most conducive to health, 
facta regarding ventilation, bed-clothes, adornments, and other useful hints. 

BEAUTY FOOD.— Instructs how, when, and where to eat, and also treats of 
Digestion, Complexion, Foods which color the skin, etc. 

HOW TO BE FAT.— The information imparted in this chapter will be aV,jonto 
thin, delicate women, as it tells what to eat and what to avoid, also what to 
drink and how to dress when plumpness is desirable. 

HOW TO BE LEAN.— If corpulent women will carefully follow the Instructions 
herein, they will be happy and enjoy life. 

BEAUTY BA’i’HING AND EXERCISE. — This chapter is intended for every 
one to read and profit by. There is no truer saying than “Cleanliness is next 
to Godliness.” 

EFFECTS OP MENTAL EMOTIONS ON BEAUTY. — After you read this, we 
feel safe in saying that you will not give way to anger, surprise, fright, grief, 
vexation, etc., but will ,at all times strive to be cheerful and make the best 
of life. 

HOW BEAUTY IS DESTROYED. — The women are warned in this chapter 
against quack doctors and their nostrums, the dangers of overdosing, and 
irregular habits. 

HOW TO REMAIN BEAUTIFUL. — It is just as easy for those that are beauti- 
ful to remain so as to allow themselves to fade away like a flower which 
only blooms for a season. 

HOW TO ACQUIRE GRACE AND STYLE. — Without grace and style beauty 
is lost. They are as essential as a beautiful face. To walk ungracefully or 
awkwardly is not only vulgar but detrimental to the health. 

THE language of BEAUTY. — This chapter will ena.ble you to read a per- 
son and learn his or her character, without the use of a phrenological chart, 

CORSETS.- When and what kind should be worn. How they were originated 
and by whom. 

CYCLING. — The latest craze for ladies is fully described in this chapter. 


WOMEN’S SECRETS ; op, How to be BeautitiiL 

THE BEST SELLING BOOK OF THE DAY. 


Just Out. I*rice SS Cents. 

For ^a,le by all iN'ewsdealers* 


STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 

31 Hose Street# 



THE COUNTY FAIR. 

By NEIL BURCESS. 

Written from the celebrated play now ' 
rnnning its second continuous season in 
New York, and booked to run a third sea- 
son in the same theater. 

The scenes are among the New Hamp- 
shire hills, and picture the bright side of 
country life. The story is full of amusing 
events and happy incidents, something 
after the style of our “Old Homestead,” 
which is having such an enormous sale. 

THE COUNTY FAIR” will be one 
of the great hits of the season, and should 
you fail to secure a copy you will miss a 
literary treat. It is a spirited romance of 
town and country, and a faithful repro- 
duction of the drama, with the same unique 
characters, the same graphic scenes, but 
with the narrative more artistically rounded, and completed than was 
possible in the brief limits of a dramatic representation. This touch- 
ing story effectively demonstrates that it is possible to produce a novel 
which is at once wholesome and interesting in every part, without the 
introduction of an impure thought cr suggestion. Read the following 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS: 

Mr. Neil Burgass has rewritten his play, “The County Fair,” in story form. It 
rounds out a narrative which is comparatively but sketched in the play. It only needs 
the first sentence to set going the memory and imagination of those who have seen the 
latter and whet the apatite for the rest of this lively conception of a live dramatist.— 
Brooklyn Daily EayU. 

As “The County Fair” threatens to remain in New York for a long time the general 
public out of town may be glad to learn that the playwright has put the piece into print 
in the form of a story. A tale based upon a play may sometimes lack certain literary 

? iualities, but it never is the sort of thing over which any one can fall asleep. For- 
unately, “The County Fair” on the stage and in print is by the same author, so there 
can be no reason for fearing that the book misses any of the points of the drama which 
has been so successful —.V. Y. Herald. 

The idea of turning successful plays into novels seems to be getting popular. The 
latest book of this description is a story reproducing the action and incidents of Neil 
Burgess’ play, “The County Fair.” The tale, which is a romance based on scenes of 
home life and domestic joys and sorrows, follows closely the lines of the drama in 
story and plot.— CAicoao Dauy News. 

Mr. Burgess’ amusing play, “The County Fair.” has been received with such favor 
that he has worked it over and expanded it into a novel of more than 200 pages. It will 
be enjoyed even by those who have never heard the play and still more by those who 
have.— Cincinnati iHmes-Star. 

This touching story effectively demonstrates that it is possible to produce a novel 
which is at once wholesome and interesting in every part, without the introduction of 
an impure thought or suggestion.— Press. 

Street & Smith have issued “The County Fair.” This is a faithful reproduction of 
the drama of that name and is an affecting and vivid story of domestic life, joy and 
sorrow, and rural scenes.— San Francisco Call. 

This romance is written from the play of this name and is full of touching incidents. 
—Emnsville Journal. 

It is founded on the popular play of the same name, in which Neil Burgess, who is 
also the author of the story, has achieved the dramatic success of the season.— F’aU 
Jiioer Herald. 



■nx© Oo'U.xa.'t^ is No. 33 of Select Series,” for 

sale by all Newsdealers, or will be sent, on receipt of price, 25 cents, to any 
address, postpaid, by STBEET & SMITH, Publishers, 25-81 Bose st., New York. 


DENMAN THOMPSON’S OLD HOMESTEAD. 


SIBEET & SMITH’S SELECT SERIES Ko. 2ft- 


£*rice« 25 Oento, 


Some Ooinions of the Press* 

"As the probabilities are remote of the play *Tbe Old Comestead’ being 
seen anywhere but In large cities It is only fair that the story of the piece should 
be printed. Like most stories written from plays it contains a great deal wJilch 
Is not said or done on the boards, yet It is no more verbose than such a story 
should be and It gives some good pictures of the scenes and people who for a 
year or more have been delighting thousands nightly. Uncle Josh, Aunt Tlldy, 
Old Cy Prime, Reuben, the mythical Bill Jones, the sheriff and all the other char- 
acters are here, beside some new ones. It is to be hoped tuat the book will make 
a large sale, not only on Its merits, but that other play owners may feel encour- 
aged to let their works be read by the many thousands who cannot hope to see 
them on the stage.”— T. Herald, June 2d. 

“ Denman Tliompson’s ‘The Old Homestead’ is a story of clouds and sunshine 
alternating over a venerat d home; of a grand old man. honest and blunt, who 
loves his honor as he loves his life, yet suffera the agony of the condemned in 
learning of the deplorable conduct of a wayward son; a story of country life, love 
and jealousy, without an impure thought, and with the healthy flavor of the 
fields in every chapter. It is founded on Denman Thompson s drama of ‘The 
Old Homestead.’ iV. Y. Press, May 26th. 

“ Messrs. Street & Smith, publishers of the New TorTc Weekly, have brought 
out in book-form the story of ‘ The Old Homestead,’ the play which, as produced 
by Mr. Denman Thompson, has met with such wondrous success. It will proba- 
bly have a great sale, thus justifying the foresight of the publishers in giving the 
drama this permanent flctlon form.”— iV. Y. Morning Journal, June 2d. 

“The popularity of Denman Thompson’s play of • The Old Homestead’ has 
encouraged Street & Smith, evidently with his permission, to publish a good-sized 
novel with the same title, set in the same scenes and Including the same charac- 
ters and more too. The book is a fair match for the play In the simple good taste 
and real ability with which It is written. Tlie publishers are Street & Smith, and 
they have gotten the volume up In cheap popular form.”— iV. Y. Graphic, May 29. 

“Denman Thompson’s play, ‘The Old Homestead,’ is familiar, at least by rep 
utatlon, to every piay-goer In the country. Its truth to nature and its simple 
patbos have been admirably preserved in this story, which is founded upon it 
and follows its incidents closely. Tne requirements of the stag make the action 
a little hurried at times, but the scenes described axe brought before the mind’s 
eye with remarkable vividness, and the portrayal of life In the little New Eng- 
land town is almost perfect. Those who have never seen the play can get an 
excellent idea of what it Is like from the book. Both are free from sentlmentalJn*' 
and sensation, and are remarkably healthy in xoneY— Albany Express. 

“Denman Thompson’s ‘Old Homestead' has been put into story -form ana \s is- 
sued by Street & Smith. The story will somewhat explain to those who have not 
seen It the great popularity of the play. '^—Brooklyn Times, June 8th. 

► “The fame of Denman Thompson’s play, ‘Old Homestead,’ Is world-wide. 
Tens of thousands have enjoyed it, and frequently recall the pure, lively pleasure 
they took in Its representation. This is the story told in narrative form as well 
as It was told on the stage, and will be a treat to all, whether they ha^’e seen the 
play or not."— National Tribune, Washington, D. C. 

“Here we have the shaded lanes, the dusty roads, the hilly pastures, the 
peaked roofs, the school-house, and the familiar faces of dear old Swanzey, and 
the story which, dramatized, has packed the largest theater in New York, and 
has been a success everywhere because of Its true and sympathetic touches oi 
nature. All the Incidents which have held audiences spell- bound are here re- 
corded— the accusation of robbery directed against the innocent boy, his shame, 
and leaving home ; the dear old Aunt Tilda, who has been courted for thirty 
years by the mendacious Cy Prime, who has never had the courage to propose : 
the fall of the country boy into the temptations of city life, and his recovery by 
the good Oldman who braves the metropolis to find him. The story embodies ^ 
teat the play tells, and all teat It suggests as well"— Kansas Citm JourmA, 


Mrs. Georgie Sheldon’s 

Xji^nr£:sa7 

Copyright Novels, 

IlST 

TtlE Select Series. 


as Oents Eleicli. 


FULLY ILLUSTRATED. 


No. 16-SIBYL’S INFLUENCE. 

No. 24-THAT DOWDY. 

No. 43-TRIXY. 

No. 44-A TRUE ARISTOCRAT. 

These novels, from the pen of our gifted au- 
thor, who writes exclusively for us, are among 
her most popular productions, and hold the front 
rank in first-class literature. 


For sale by all Booksellers and News Agents, or will be sent, post- 
paid, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of 
price, 25 cents each, by 

STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 

F. O. Box 2734. 81 Bose Street, New Tork. 


BERTHA M. CLAY’S 

Copyright Novels, 

i3sr 

The Select Series. 

DPa^ioo, 23 Ooiatis XSEtolx. 


FULLY ILLUSTRATED. 


ISTo. 22.-A HEART’S BITTERNESS. 

No. 28.-A HEART’S IDOL. 

No. 36.~THE GIPSY’S DAUGHTER. 
No. 37.-IN LOVES CRUCIBLE. 

No. 39.-MARJORIE DEANE. 

TLese novels are among tlie best ever writ- 
ten by BERTHA M. OLAY, and are enjoying 
an enormous sale. Tbey are copyrighted and 
can be had only in THE SELECT SERIES. 


For sale by all Booksellers and News Agents, or will be sent, post- 
paid, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of 
price, 25 cents each, by 

STREET & SMITH, PulDlisliers, 

P. O. Box 2784b 81 Bose Street, New Tork. 


THE SELECT SERIES 

OF 

POPULAR AMERICAN COPYRIGHT STORIES. 

No. 54— THE FACE OF ROSENFEL, by C. H. Montague 25 

No. 53— THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S, by Jean Kate Ludlum 25 

No. 52— TRUE TO HERSELF, by Mrs. J. H. Walworth 25 

No. 51— A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN’S SIN, by Hero Strong 25 

No. 50 — MARRIED IN MASK, by Mansfield Tracy Walworth 25 

No. 49-GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY, by Mrs. M. V. Victor 25 

No. 48-THE MIDNIGHT MARRIAGE, by A. M. Douglas 25 

No. 47— SADIA THE ROSEBUD, by Julia Edwards 25 

No. 46— A MOMENT OF MADNESS, by Charles J. Bellamy 25 

No. 45— WEAKER THAN A WOMAN, by Charlotte M. Brame 25 

No. 44-A TRUE ARISTOCRAT, by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon 25 

No. 43 — TRIXY, by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon 25 

No. 42— A DEBT OF VENGEANCE, by Mrs. E. Burke Collins 25 

No. 41 -BEAUTIFUL RIENZI, by Annie Ashmore 25 

No. 40 — AT A GIRL'S MERCY, by Jean Kate Ludlum 25 

No. 39— MARJORIE DEANE, by Bertha M. Clay 25 

No. 38— BEAUTIFUL, BUT POOR, by Julia Edwards 25 

No. 37— IN LOVE’S CRUCIBLE, by Bertha M. Clay 25 

No. 36— THE GIPSY’S DAUGHTER, by Bertha M. Clay 25 

No. 35 — CECILE’S MARRIAGE by Lucy Randall Comfort 25 

No. 34 — THE LITTLE WIDOW, by Julia Edwards 25 

No. 33 — THE COUNTY FAIR, by Neil Burgess 25 

No. 32 — LADY RYHOPE’S LOVER, by Emma G. Jones 25 

No. 31— MARRIED FOR GOLD, by Mrs. E. Burke Collins 25 

No. 30 — PRETTIEST OF ALL, by Julia Edwards 25 

No. 29— THE HEIRESS OF EGREMONT, by Mrs. Harriet Lewis 25 

No. 28— A HEART’S IDOL, by Bertha M. Clay 25 

No. 27— WINIFRED, by Mary Kyle Dallas 25 

No. 26— FONTELROY, by Francis A, Durivage 25 

No. 25— THE KING’S TALISMAN, by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 25 

No. 24 — THAT DOWDY, by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon 25 

No. 23— DENMAN THOMPSON’S OLD HOMESTEAD 25 

No. 22— A HEART’S BITTERNESS, by Bertha M. Clay 25 

No. 21 — THE LOST BRIDE, by Clara Augusta 25 

No. 20 — INGOMAR, by Nathan D. Umer - 25 

No. 19— A LATE REPENTANCE, by Mrs. Mary A. Denison 25 

No. 18 — ROSAMOND, by Mrs. Alex. McVeigh Miller 25 

No. 17 — THE HOUSE OF SECRETS, by Mrs. Harriet Lewis 25 

No. 16— SYBIL’S INFLUENCE, by Mrs. Georgie Sheldon 25 

No. 15— THE VIRGINIA HEIRESS, by Mrs. May Agnes Fleming 25 

No. 14— FLORENCE FALKLAND, by Burke Brentford 25 

No. 13— THE BRIDE-ELECT, by Annie Ashmore 25 

No. 12— THE PHANTOM WIFE, by Mrs. M. V. Victor 25 

No. 11 — BADLY MATCHED, by Mrs. Helen Corwin Pierce 25 

No. 10— OCTAVIA’S PRIDE, by Charles T. Manners 25 

No. 9— THE WIDOW’S WAGER, by Rose Ashleigh 25 

No. 8— WILL SHE WIN? by Emma Garrison Jones 25 

No. 7— GRATIA’S TRIALS, by Lucy Randall Comfort 25 

These popular books are large type editions, well printed, well bound, and 
In handsome covers. For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers ; or sent, 
postage free, on receipt of price, 25 cents each, by the publishers, 

STREET c§: SMITH, 

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P. O. Box 2734, 


MANUAL LIBRARY. 


No. 1-THE ALBUM WRITER’S ASSISTANT. 

No. 2-THE WAY TO DANCE. 

No. 3-THE WAT TO DO MAGIC. 

No. 4-THE WAY TO WRITE LETTERS. 

No. 5-HOW TO BEHAYE IN SOCIETY. 

No. 6-AMATEUR’S MANUAL OF PHOTOGRAPHY. 

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No. 9-THE YOUNG GYMNAST. 

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No. 11-SHORT-HAND FOR EVERYBODY. 

No. 12-THE TAXIDERMIST’S MANUAL. 

For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postage 
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TtlEHAND'BOOK LIBRARY 

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TO BE Beautiful. . . .25c 
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READINGS. . . .25c 

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These popular books are large type edltl'^ns, well printed, well bound, and in 
handsome covers. For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers ; or sent, postage 
Iree, on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

STH-EIET ct? STWXITH, 

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P. O. Box 8784, 


THE SEA A1 SHORE SERIES 


ow 


POPULAR AMERICAN COPYRIGHT NOVELS, 

BY NOTABLE AUTHORS. 



OR, 


THE WEAVEK’S WAK. 


By PROFESSOR WM. HENRY PECK, 

AUTHOR OP 

“Marlin Marduke,” “£15,000 Reward,” “Siballa, 
the Sorceress,” etc. 


From the very opening paragraph this powerful and Intensely exciting 
romance enchains the attention and keeps curiosity constantly active. The 
scene opens in the manufacturing center of Lyons, during a troublesome 
period in her history, when the laboring classes strove to maintain their 
rights against the nobility. The hero, whom fate has made an humble 
workman, finds opportunity for the display of those self-asserting qualities, 
which always force their possessor to the front in every contest. While 
most of the action is thrilling and dramatic, a captivating love episode is 
adroitly interwoven with the main thread of the romance. The mystery 
appertaining to the early life of the Locksmith, the appalling accusation 
which makes him the victim of unseen foes, his fortitude in the most trying 
positions, and his final vindication and reward, are forcibly and sympatheti- 
cally set forth in this well constructed story. 


RRICE, SS CENTS 


STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 

P. O. Box, 2T34. 81 ROSE STREETi New York. 


BEN HAMED; 

OR, 

THE OHILDBEN OF FATE. 


By STLVANUS COBB, Jr. 


Str8et& Smith’s Sea and Shore Series, No.8. 

Fx'ice, as Oexi'ts. 


WHAT THE PEESS SAT OE IT. 

•*Ben Hamed” Is an Oriental romance by Sylvanus Cobb, which recalls 
the deliglitful stories of the “Arabian Nights,” without their supernatural 
effects. Indeed, our old frieml Haroun A1 Baschid figures prominentlj' in 
this work, and is closely identified with the hero and heroine— the devoted 
Assad and the fair Morgiana. It is a romance of pure love, with an in- 
genious and cleverly sustained Grand Rapids Democrat, Aug. 8. 

“Ben Hamed” is the title of an Oriental romance not Kulike the stories of 
the “Arabian Nights.” It is a romance of pure love. A number of strong 
characters combine with the hero and heroine in the solution of an ingenious 
ylot.— Harrisburg Patriot, July 23. 

Street & Smith of New York have published “Ben Hamed; or. The Chil- 
dren of Fate,” by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., which is No. 8 of the Sea and Shokb 
Series. This book is an Oriental romance, wdiich recalls the “Arabian 
Nights,” without their supernatural efiects. The plot is ingenious and well 
sustained, and brings out a romance of pure love in a charming manner.— 
—San Francisco Momiing Call, July 21. 

“Ben Hamed” is an Oriental romance by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., published in 
paper by Street & Smith, New York city. It is clever in the way that all of 
Cobb’s stories are clexQV.— Indianapolis News, July 20. 

“Ben Hamed is a capital story, pro^essive in action, interesting from 
the opening line, and with a charming love romance, on which are strung 
many remarkable incidents . — Acton Star, July 21. 

A capital story of Eastern life, which must have been suggested by a 
perusal of the “Arabian Nights,” is Sylvanus Cobb’s Oriental narrative of 
“Ben Hamed ; or. The Children of Fate.” It is admirablj- told, full of in- 
terest, and cannot fail to charm all who begin its perusaL — Jf ok fana 
Sun, Sept. 22. 

Street & Smith, of the New York Weekly, have published “Ben 
Hamed; or. The Children of Fate,” by Sylvanus Cobb. Jr. This is an 
Oriental romance, accentuated by a very strong and ingenious plot.— 
Paul Pioneer Press, July 21. 

Street & Smith, New York, publish in paper covers “Ben Hamed,” an 
Oriental romance, by Sylvanus Cobb, which recalls the delightful stories of 
the “Arabian Nights,” without their • supernatural — Cincinnati 

Enquirer. 

“Ben Hamed.” an Oriental romance, by Sylvanus Cobb, is published by 
Street & Smith, New York. It is one of Cobb’s characteristic romances, 
Haroun Al Ras<*hid being a promine^it figure. There is nothing strained or 
unnatural in “Ben Hamed,” it recalling the stories of the “Arabian Nights,” 
without their supernatural QflQcXA.— Minneapolis Triune, July 2L 



Stories of Strange Adventure Ashore and Afloat. 


No. 23-BUFFALO BILL’S BEST SHO by Ned Buntline. 

No. 22— THE STRUGGLE FOR MAVERICK, by J. F. Hits. 
No. 21-ROCKY MOUNTAIN SAM, by Burke Brentford. 

No. 20-THE HOUSE OF SILENCE, by Dr. J. H. Robinson. 

No. 19-THE IRISH MONTE CRISTO’S TRAIL, by Alex. Robert- 
son, M. D. 

No. 18-THE YANKEE CHAMPION, by Sylvanus Cobb., Jr. 

No. 17— FEDORA, from the famous play of the same name, by 
Victorien Sardou. 

No. 16-SIBALLA, THE SORCERESS, by Prof. Wm. H. Peck. 
No. 15— THE GOLDEN EAGLE, by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

No. 11-THE FORTUNE-TELLER OF NEW ORLEANS, by Prof. 
Wm. H. Peck. 

No. 13-THE IRISH MONTE CRISTO ABROAD, by Alex. Rob- 
ertson, M.D. 

No. 12— HELD FOR RANSOM, by Lieut. Murray. 

No. 11-THE IRISH MONTE CRISTO’S SEARCH, by Alex. 
Robertson, M. D. 

No. 10— LA TOSCA, from the celebrated play, by Victorien 
Sardou. 

No. 9— THE MAN IN BLUE, by Mary A. Denison. 

No. 8— BEN HAMED, by Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

No. 7-CONFESSIONS OF LINSKA. 

6— THE MASKED LADY, by Lieutenant Murray. 

5— THEODORA, from the celebrated play, by Victorien 
Sardou. 

No. 4— THE LOCKSMITH OF LYONS, by Prof. Wm. H. Peck. 
No. 3— THE BROWN PRINCESS, by Mrs. M. V. Victor. 

No. 2— THE SILVER SHIP, by Lewis Leon. 

No. 1-AN IRISH MONTE CRISTO. 

For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postage 
FEEE, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of price, 
25 cents each, by the publishers, 

STREET & SMITH, 

25-31 ROSE STREET, NEW YORK. 


P. O. BOX 2734. 


The Secret Service Series. 


No. 36-THE GREAT TRAVERS CASE, by Dr. Mark Merrick. 
No. 35-MUERTALMA^ OR, THE POISONED PIN, by Mar- 
maduke Dey. 

No. 34-DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER, by R. M. Taylor. 

No. 33— OLD SPECIE, by Alexander Robertson, M. D. 

No. 32-ADVENTURES AND EXPLOITS OF THE YOUNGER 
BROTHERS, by Henry Dale. 

No. 31-1 CHASE ROUND THE WORLD, by Mariposa Weir. 
No. 30-GOLD-DUST DARRELL, by Burke Brentford. 

No. 29-THE POKER KING, by MarUne Manly. 

No. 28-BOB YOUNGER’S FATE, by Edwin S. Deane. 

No. 27-THE REVENUE DETECTIVE, by PoHce Captain James. 
No. 26-UNDER HIS THUMB, by Donald J. McKenzie. 

No. 25-THE NAVAL DETECTIVE’S CHASE, by Ned Buntline. 
No. 24-THE PRAIRIE DETECTIVE, by Leander P. Rich- 
ardson. 

No. 23-A MYSTERIOUS CASE, by K. F. HiU. 

No. 22-THE SOCIETY DETECTIVE, by Oscar Maitland. 

No. 21-THE AMERICAN MARQUIS, by Nick Carter. 

No. 20-THE MYSTERY OF A MADSTONE, by K. F. Hill. 

No. 19-THE SWORDSMAN OF WARSAW, by Tony Pastor. 
No. 18-A WALL STREET HAUL, by Nick Carter. 

No. 17 -THE OLD DETECTIVE’S PUPIL, by Nick Carter. 

No. IG^THE MOUNTAINEER DETECTIVE, by Clayton W. Cobb. 
No. 15-TOM AND JERRY, by Tony Pastor. 

No. 14-THE DETECTIVE’S CLEW, by ^‘Old Hutch.” 

No. 13— DARKE DARRELL, by Frank H. Stauffer. 

No. 12-THE DOG DETECTIVE, by Lieutenant Murray. 

No. 11-THE MALTESE CROSS, by Eugene T. Sawyer. 

No. 10 -THE POST-OFFICE DETECTIVE, by Geo. W. Goode. 
No. 9— OLD MORTALITY, by Young Baxter. 

No. 8— LITTLE LIGHTNING, by Police Captain James. 

No. 7-THE CHOSEN MAN, by Judson R. Taylor. 

No. 6— OLD STOiNEWALL, by Judson R. Taylor. 

No. 5-THE MASKED DETECTIVE, by Judson R. Taylor. 

No. 4- THE TWIN DETECTIVES, by K. F. HiU. 

No. 3- VAN, THE GOVERNMENT DETECTIVE, by «01d 
Sleuth.” ’ ^ 

No. 2-BRUCE ANGELO, by “ Old Sleuth.” 

No. 1-BRANT ADAMS, by “Old Sleuth.” 

For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers, or will be sent, postage 
FKEE, to any address in the United States or Canada, on receipt of 
price, 25 cents each, by the publishers, 

STREET & STREET, 

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P. O. Box 2734. 


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The Primrose Edition 

OF 

COPYRIG-HT NOVELS. 


Issued Monthly. 50 Cents. 


No. MNQTHER MAN'S WIFE, by Betiha M. Clay. 

Another -Man’s Wife.— This is one of Bertha M. Clay’s most effective stories. It 
forcibly and inii)ressibly portrays the evils certain to attend matrimonial deceit, clan- 
destine intei’viows, and all the tricks and devices which iim)eril a wife’s honor. It has a 
novel and enti’aucin dy interestinyr plot, and abounds in vivid and dramatic incidents. 
It is the first issue, of Street it Smitn’s Trimrose Edition of Copyrig-ht Novels, and it 
will not appear elsewhere.— /'’ran^Zi/i Freertuii). 

No. 2--THE BELLE OF THE SEASON, by Mrs. 

Harriet Lewis. 

The Belle of the Season.— 'I’his is a gracefully told love story, by Mrs. Harriet 
Lewis aboundin 4- in (uamadc action and extremely captivating incidents. The plot is 
a marvel of ingenuit.v, not at all exti'avagant, and the love scenes are very spiritedly de- 
picted. The reader must admii-e the adroit manner in which the hero and heroine, after 
innumerable trials, temptations, and misunderstandings, overcome all obstacles to their 
union, and recognize each other’s worth. There is an underplot of deep interest which 
entrance.s the charm of romance, and every chapter develops novel and unexpected 
features. “The, Belle of the Season” is one of iMi-s. Lewis’ most entrancing works, and 
is likely to have a large sale.— Leader. 

No. 3-DOGTOR JACK, by St. George Rathborne. 

Doctor Jack.— A novel, by St. George Rathborne, is an intensely interesting and 
highly dramatic modern story of an Vmeri(;an’s adventures in sunny Spain and Oriental 
Turkey. The scenes are rapid in their action, and yet the reader is given entrancing 
glimpses of pen i)ainted 8cener.v along the way that charm the senses. It will be con- 
ceded on all sides that the author’s gi-aphic descrii)tion of the bull tight at Madrid is the 
most powerful ever printed : while the events connected with the great Spanish carnival 
must ever remain a ydeasant recollection to the reader. We predict for "i loctor Jack” a 
sale unequaled sin e the publi('ation of “Mr. Barnes of New York.” The volume is 
handsomely gotten up, in attrac tive cover.— Jferald. 

No. 4-KATHLEEN DOUGLAS, by Julia Truitt Bisbop. 

Kathleen Douglas —Like the plot of an artfully constructed play is this cleverly 
told romance, by Julia Truitt Bishop, of love and niystery. It is the story of a cruelly 
suspected yet innocent wife, against who>n suspicions are aroused and disseminated by 
a rejected wooer— a man with the outward semblance of a saint, yet who conceals the 
heart of an insatiate wretch. The interest is heightened and artistically sustaiiK'd by 
making the daughter an inheritor of her mother’s supposed disgrace. The golden thread 
of a pleasing love episode is intertwined with the tragic element of the romance, and 
from the opeiiinsr to the close the reader never loses sight of the heroine, the long-suffer- 
ing but eventually rewarded Kathleen Douglas. 

No. 5-HER ROYAL LOVER, by Ary Ecliaw. 


These popular books are large type editions, well printed, well bound, and In 
handsome covers. For sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers ; or sent, postage 
free, on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

JSTH.II3ET JSIMITH, 

25 to 31 Rose Street, New York. 


P. O. Box 2734. 


^39^- /r 



FIGHTING FOR IT. 


Here is a poort-natured seiamble for a cake of Pears’ Soap, wbicii only 
illustrates how necessary it becomes to all people who have once tried it 
and discovered its merits. Some who ask for it have to tiuht for it in a 
more serious way, and that too in drug stores where all sorts of vile and 
inferior soaps are urged upon them a.s substitutes. But thev can always 
get the genuine Pears’ Soap, if they will be as persistent as are these urchins. 























